


Picturebook Romance

by Dreamsinger



Category: Trolls (2016), Trolls: The Beat Goes On (Cartoon)
Genre: Hoping to get the right blend of troll-like innocence and romance, Nudity in a few scenes (not Guy Diamond), Quite a few OCs but they don't take the focus from the Broppy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2019-10-17 09:02:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 103,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17557388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dreamsinger/pseuds/Dreamsinger
Summary: After a strange dream, Poppy's inadvertent advances toward our favorite aquamarine troll meet with unexpected success. These are the tales of the awkward, tender, early days of the romance between a troll queen and her beloved.





	1. Coming Clean

After a strange dream, Poppy's inadvertent advances toward our favorite aquamarine troll meet with unexpected success. These are the tales of the awkward, tender, early days of the romance between a troll queen and her beloved.  
This story is rated teen just in case, but I am trying to write it with the same sort of innocent tone to romance that the movie gives off - tell me if I’ve succeeded, will you?  
Have fun reading, and as always, questions, comments, reviews and fanart are very welcome!

### 

Coming Clean

_The young troll queen gazed in quiet appreciation at the handsome sleeping troll lying next to her. Her eyes traced over dark purple eyebrows on aquamarine skin, delicately pointed ears and a generous mouth, relaxed now into an almost-smile. Her face softened into an affectionate smile as she gazed at the care lines etched around his eyes. They gave his face so much character, as someone who had faced more than his share of adversity in life and had done his best to counter it, all on his own._

_She loved to look at him, almost as much as she loved to touch him, to draw out the vibrant passion that had always been there and focus it on the joys life had to offer, rather than the sorrows. It still enchanted her, how thoughtful and caring he was; how every so often he would do something so totally sweet and romantic that it made her fall in love with him all over again._

_She admired his beautiful body, all strength and suppleness, the gentleness of his large hands and the soft downiness of his warm skin. She loved to follow the flow of his body from his cute toes to the tips of his beautiful dark hair, her eyes gliding over every curve and plane, drawing her gaze like a magnet. Almost as though if she closed her eyes he would be gone, as if their joy was just a dream._

_Just a dream…_

-O-

Poppy jumped as her alarm chimed, startled out of sleep. For a moment she lay there, blinking, as an unaccustomed wave of sadness washed over her. She felt the corners of her mouth turn down, missing him, wanting him, surprising herself a little with the strength of her longing. Slowly she reached out and placed a hand on her bed, wondering if he would ever lay there or whether it would be someone else who would make himself a special place in her heart.

“Hey, Poppy, you up yet?” Smidge’s gruff voice jolted her upright, the dream vanishing into the corners of her mind. “Come see the decorations for tomorrow’s festival, okay? There’s a problem with the lights…”

She leaped out of bed and grabbed a hairbrush. “Be right there, Smidge!”

Poppy spent her day giving the children their daily lessons, tracking down Branch to ask him for a favor, performing various boring but important village administrative duties, winning an impromptu skitterboarding competition against Guy Diamond and the twins, distributing mass invitations to the villagers for the festival, approving Cooper’s choice of pyrotechnics, decorating brownies and cakes with Biggie, coordinating the music selection for the festival with DJ, playing jump-rope with some of the children, and just generally enjoying her day, the strange dream she’d had long since forgotten.

Almost. Every so often the pink troll experienced a waft of melancholy, a vague feeling that something was wrong, or missing. She would pause and look around her, trying to figure out the source of her disquiet, but everyone was happy, preparing for the next day’s festival.

Finally she decided to ask Branch later on. _If anyone can pinpoint something out of place, he can._ Oddly, her despondency eased at the thought of her friend, and she continued on with a lighter heart.

When her bracelet signaled the late-afternoon Hug Time, she looked for Branch, remembering that she wanted to see him, but he was nowhere in sight. _I’ll go looking for him right after dinner, then._

Full of satisfaction for a day well-spent, the young troll queen went home, cheerfully planning her evening meal. After showering and changing into a fresh dress, she was heading for the kitchen when there was a thump at her door, not quite a knock.

“Poppy, it’s me,” came Branch’s call.

“Oh, good! Just the troll I was looking for.” She pulled open the round felted door of her pod. “Thanks for bringing more flashbugs for tomorrow’s festival, Branch,” Poppy said to the purple-haired male troll who stood in the doorway holding a heavy wooden box with small holes in it that tilted and jiggled as the bugs inside moved around. “I wasn’t sure we had enough.” _They must have been what I thought was missing._

“No prob-problem,” he gasped, straining to keep the box from flipping onto the floor as all the bugs apparently decided to have a meeting at one end. Through clenched teeth he grunted, “Where do you want them?”

Poppy led him to the alcove in her pod where she stored party supplies and he set the box down with a sigh of relief. As he turned to face her he put up a hand to wipe his brow and she caught the sheen of sweat across the muscles beneath his open vest. All trolls were built strong and sturdy, of course, but lately for some reason she’d noticed he seemed stronger than most.

She tilted her head to the side, looking him up and down. He was definitely well-built, solid and muscular with impressively large hands and feet that looked deceptively clumsy, yet his movements were quick and precise, like his clever mind. He was handsome too, she’d noticed, now that he smiled more; it was almost like she was looking at a different troll. Or maybe it was just that he wasn’t as much of a scaredy-cat as he used to be. He’d grown so much in the past few months; she couldn’t help but be proud of her friend.

Then she noticed the smell of fresh sweat and remembered something.

“Poppy?” The aqua-blue troll crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow. “You’re zoning out again.”

She beamed at him, her eyes shining.

Branch read her face and his ears pressed back against his head for a moment before resuming their characteristic outward tilt. His shoulders sagged and he rolled his eyes, his tone resigned as he asked, “Okay, what _else_ do you need?”

Poppy giggled at his long-suffering expression. “Nothing.”

He gave her a skeptical look and crossed his arms, cocking his head to the side as he shifted his weight onto one hip. Poppy held up her hands, her palms facing him. “Really. I just thought you might like to take a bubble bath while you’re here. You told me once you’ve never had one before.”

“Oh.” He looked a little surprised, then smiled. “Sure. Thanks. I was going to take a bath once I got home anyway. As long as it doesn’t take too long; it looks like it’s going to rain soon.”

“Great!” She beamed at him. “I know my tub’s not as big as the underground pool you bathe in, but it’s just right for relaxing after a hard day’s work.”

While he was bathing, the young troll queen went looking for clean clothes that might fit him. Fortunately, since she threw a lot of slumber parties, she had a collection of forgotten garments that he could choose from. When she heard the shower go on she scooped up her choices and waited outside the waterproof curtain, watching his dark silhouette rinsing soap from his hair and skin.

Poppy opened her mouth to ask him how he liked the bubble bath, noting from the sweet smell in the air that he’d chosen the vanilla-scented soap, but stopped as she heard him singing bits and pieces of a song she didn’t know. It was a beautiful song, about learning to grow and change and the joys of having a certain someone by his side. She melted a little, a silly, loving smile spreading over her face. Talented poet and musician that he was, she wondered if he’d written it himself.

Every time she heard the former recluse sing, it was like a gift. Poppy did everything she could to encourage him to use the glorious voice that had been silent for so long; not just because he was beautiful to hear but because when Branch sang, he was almost a different person, bold and joyous, as a troll should be.

And every time he sang, it awoke the powerful connection that had been forged between them during his very first song as she’d knelt there in the darkness, crushed to the ground under the terrible weight of guilt and gray hopeless despair. Then his voice, his kind, sweet voice had reached out to her, warming the chill deep in her heart and bringing her back with soft words of encouragement, devotion and love.

The pink troll closed her eyes to listen, savoring the moment and the rise of tenderness she felt for her sensitive, loyal, quirky, wonderful best friend.

Eventually the singing stopped. Poppy watched his shadowy form shut off the water and bend over, twirling his hair into a twist to squeeze out the excess water as he – ever safety-conscious - kept both hands on the sides of the standalone tub. “Poppy?” he called. “Have you got a towel?”

She pulled one from its hook. “Here you go, Branch.”

He slid the curtain to one side and got out, his nude aquamarine form shining wet and clean, with his dark purple hair still curled into a spiral. “Thanks.” He took the towel from her and started wiping himself down. She watched him, noting his cute little man-bits and the play of toned muscles normally hidden by his clothes, especially across his back and shoulders.

Was it her imagination, or were those muscles more impressive than she remembered? Curious, she reached out and placed a hand on his back to feel them. Branch jumped slightly, the towel in front of his belly, then held still as she slid her hand down his moist, downy skin, pleased by its texture. He closed his eyes, tilting his head back slightly, his muscles bunching as she slowly stroked across his shoulders, then continued downward, gently exploring. His hair gradually unfurled, lifting and spreading outward like a flower in the sun.

After a minute, Branch pulled in a deep breath and let it out slowly before he asked, “Poppy? What are you doing?”

She paused and then shrugged, deciding to ignore the slight sharpness in his tone. “You have very nice muscles,” she complimented him earnestly, moving around in front of him and placing both hands on his chest, noting the firmness beneath her fingers. “All that working out you do is really paying off.” She looked up to smile cheerfully at him, only to see him watching her with a tense, strangely disappointed expression, the stress lines deepening around his eyes. Her smile faded. “What?”

His gaze slid to the side. “Nothing.”

She let go of him, took a step back and put her fists on her hips. “Branch.” She stared at him until he looked up, searching her eyes intensely for a long moment. She sensed that he was waiting for her to say something, and her brow wrinkled in confusion.

Suddenly his face closed down and he seemed to give up, his shoulders drooping. He looked down at the floor and then up at her with the same kind of muted unhappiness she recognized from the past. Had she done something to upset him?

Just then her Hug Time bracelet flowered, its cheerful _ting_ a startling contrast to the strained atmosphere that had somehow grown between then. She beamed gratefully. Of course; a hug would fix everything. “Hug Ti-”

“No!” His hand flashed up between them, almost hitting her in the face. Reflexively she jerked back, staring at him with wide eyes. He hadn’t rejected a hug since he’d gotten back his colors. Sometimes he’d even spontaneously hug her, to celebrate a triumph, or just because they were friends. _What’s wrong?_

He saw the hurt on her face as he lowered his arm. “Sorry. I’m – I’m all wet. I don’t want to get your clothes wet.”

She scrunched up her face, trying to decide if he was telling the truth.

What had she been doing before he got upset? Touching him, stroking him, her hands pressing against his warm body, enjoying the close contact. Enjoying it very much, in fact. For some reason, his body was interesting; a lot more interesting than she’d ever found anyone else’s. Why was that? Even now she wanted to reach out and touch him some more, and experienced an odd sense of frustration that he wouldn’t let her.

That wasn’t like her. What’s going on? It wasn’t like her to do things that made her friends uncomfortable, either. She stepped back, confused and upset.

Branch stood there watching her, obviously nervous, still holding the towel with his arm pressed low on his stomach. Normally she would have kept pestering him until he told her what was bothering him - really, he could be so exasperating; how did he ever expect to be close to other trolls if he never let them see the real him? - when the awkwardness of his position finally registered and she suddenly recalled some things her father had once told her about male trolls that she had promptly dismissed from her mind.

Branch was a male, a very handsome one. And while she had a lot of male friends, only Creek the traitor had ever caught her eye, a fact that she tried very hard not to think about. It was one of the few things that truly upset the young queen. Her father had told her that it was natural for trolls who cared about one another to want to touch each other; that the stronger the feeling, the more they would want to touch, even to rub their entire bodies together and do other things to make them feel connected to the one they loved most.

At the time she had imagined Creek declaring his undying love for her and wanting to be that close to her, but it had never happened, something that had disappointed her at the time but which she was fervently glad about now.

Branch was his polar opposite. Surely she wasn’t thinking about him in the same way? A wave of confusion was followed by a sudden heat in her face. She slapped her hands to her cheeks, staring at him with round eyes, consumed with embarrassment.

“Oh my gosh!” _I was. I was touching him the way Dad said trolls touch when they want to…_

Her fierce blush was echoed on the face of the troll watching her. Branch stiffened, then quickly turned his back to her. After a few seconds, he resumed drying himself off.

She stood there, simultaneously wanting to look at him and wanting to look anywhere else but at him, and was overcome with the urge to escape the whole situation. “I, uh, I brought you some clothes. Pick anything you like,” she said awkwardly.

“Thanks,” he said quietly, not turning around as she backed away and headed for the main living area.

_I need to think._

Yes, they had bonded during their adventure and she had come to love him, her oddly mature/immature best troll-friend, but was that the only reason they had spent so much time together lately? Or why she caught herself admiring his body and wanting to be near him? Or why she enjoyed Hug Time that little bit more when he was part of the hug, especially when it was just the two of them?

_Could it be?_ A vague memory of the dream she’d awakened from this morning resurfaced and she sat down on her bed, pressing her teeth thoughtfully into her knuckles. Maybe she’d suspected her feelings for him might be different from the love she had for every troll in her village, but Branch was so…complicated. He had a lot of secrets, something that both intrigued and infuriated her. Some of the things he did even shocked her, although she never doubted he only had everyone’s safety at heart.

As for Branch, his reaction just now…what had it meant? Had he just been embarrassed because of what her touch had done to him? Or did he feel something more for her?

While she knew full well that he loved her as a friend, he’d never said he was attracted to her; never did anything she’d seen other sweethearts do for each other. He’d never called her pretty, or given her gifts, or recited some of that beautiful poetry that had first caught her attention and made her realize there was a lot more to him than she’d ever suspected. For a while she had even thought the poem he’d quoted for Bridget to repeat had been about her, but as time passed and he’d only treated her like a good friend she had put such thoughts aside, deciding that if he was interested in her, he’d say something.

_Wouldn’t he? This is Branch we’re talking about here…_

A few minutes later Branch emerged from the bathroom wearing dark blue shorts and a yellow tank top, his own clothes tucked under his arm. “I’m going head home now,” he said brusquely, “Thanks for the bubble bath. It was…refreshing.”

As he moved quickly toward the door she felt a twinge. “Branch-”

He didn’t stop. “Sorry, I’ve got to get home before it starts-” He jerked the door open to reveal sheets of water cascading down, the sky dark.

He hesitated, then seemed to gather himself to plunge out into the rainstorm. She darted forward to put a hand on his shoulder. “Branch, wait.”

He ducked his head as his ear angled toward her, silently listening. His shoulder felt as tense as she did. She was tempted to just let him go, to pretend that this had never happened, but there was no taking it back. And she knew he would avoid her from now on; maybe even retreat back underground and be even more lonely than before, and it would be her fault.

Poppy bit her lip. “Branch, I know you don’t like to talk about your feelings, but I’m really confused right now. We need to talk. Would you mind staying here tonight? At least until it stops raining?”

He threw a haunted look at her over his shoulder, his blue eyes gleaming in the darkness as they reflected the light from her pod. He was breathing heavily and she sensed his desire to run.

“Please.” She let go of his shoulder and curled one hand around the other, pressing them against her chest.

He looked to the side, then took a step forward, standing in the doorway with the wind riffling his still-damp hair while she pressed her lips together, waiting anxiously. Then he took a step backward into the room, closing the door behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I refer to both the Trolls Holiday special and the Trolla-palooza short, as well as the series, but since no one seems to know for sure whether Trolls: The Beat Goes On is canon, I decided to be vague about referring to specific incidents that occur in the Trolls: The Beat Goes On series, just in case. Mostly, I use the series as a way to get a better understanding of the characters’ personalities and likely behavior in different scenarios.
> 
>  
> 
> I decided that when Branch refers to “taking a bath” while he’s talking about his “bunker list” in the episode “Model Behavior”, he’s talking about bubble baths, not regular baths or showers. In both the series and the concept art, such as in the Trolls art book, it clearly shows he has a bathroom and bathing/swimming pool, plus we see him hand-washing his vest (and showing off his muscles) in that same episode, so it’s doubtful he doesn’t bathe.
> 
>  
> 
> Trolls do seem to have a rather casual attitude about nudity, at least around each other. The glitter trolls don’t wear clothes, and Biggie is seen without pants in Trolls Holiday (albeit with pixilation blocking our view, so we don’t know for sure whether different types of male trolls other than glitter trolls have visible private parts) so I figured neither Branch nor Poppy would particularly care about seeing each other naked unless it got serious, which it did when Poppy inadvertently made Branch aroused. They do seem to feel differently about seeing bergens naked, however, according to the series.
> 
>  
> 
> I have a tumblr blog called Trolls Philosophy under the name dreamsinger-rose, where I’ve done some in-depth posts about my favorite movie, should you decide you like how I write and want to see more from me.
> 
>  
> 
> Have fun reading, and as always, questions, comments, reviews and fanart are very welcome!


	2. Poppy's Tale

Poppy let out a breath of relief. “Thank you.”

He swallowed hard, his eyes darting around the room as if unable to look at her. She’d seen him act similarly right before he had a panic attack, and her heart went out to him. “Branch, calm down,” she said soothingly, quelling the strong impulse to wrap her arms around him. “It’ll be okay. Really,” she said instead.

To her surprise, he let out a short laugh that was more from his nose than his mouth. “You _would_ say that. Ever the optimist.” She recognized the note of amusement in his sarcasm and relaxed a little.

“All right, Branch, so what was all that about back there?” She tried to sound matter-of-fact, not wanting to set him off again, but she was dying to know what he was thinking. 

He set the bundle of clothing on the floor near the door, then crossed his arms and shifted his weight to one hip. “What do you mean?”

She let out a huff of irritation and pushed her fists down near her knees as she leaned forward momentarily, rolling her eyes at him. “Braanch! You _know_ what I mean! One minute we were having a normal conversation and the next you go all weird on me, and then I start thinking weird things about you and then you freak out, and that makes me freak out and-”

“Whoa, whoa, Poppy, cool it,” he ordered, holding up his hands with his palms facing her as he suddenly shifted back to the steady, rational Branch she was used to. “What weird things?”

Poppy realized fleetingly that if she was wrong about him, this was going to be an exceedingly embarrassing conversation. “Um, well, I thought - wait, you started it. You should go first.”

“Me?” He put a hand behind his head, attempting a weak laugh. “I don’t know what you’re talk…ing…” he trailed off as she crossed her arms and glared at him. He was silent for a few moments before he said quietly, “Poppy, you already know.”

She took a step closer, his eyes locked on his as she asked, “Is it…that you’re in love with me?”

He opened his mouth, closed it, and nodded. He looked away. “I know you don’t feel the same way.” Then he straightened his shoulders and stepped toward her, his gaze firm and steady. “But I still want to be friends with you. I promise I won’t make things awkward for you. You just caught me by surprise earlier, that’s all. We can still have a lot of fun together.”

She looked at him as she thought back over the last few months, realizing that they’d spent part of nearly every day together. At first she had waited for some sign of infatuation; after all, he’d sung that he loved her in front of the whole village, and she couldn’t help but respond in kind. She’d watched him emerge from his safe little nest like a butterfly from its cocoon, bravely facing everything life (and Poppy) could throw at him, keeping his promise to support her, no matter what. He made her feel special, not because she was queen, but because she was Poppy.

It was always Branch she thought of first now, when she needed help or wanted to ask someone for advice. He had a logical, organized mind, even if his way of looking at things was sometimes, well, eccentric. She realized then just how quickly she had gotten used to relying on him, even after she’d decided that he only saw her as a friend.

Now, she planned activities with him in mind. She looked for him during dances and tried to be nearby when Hug Time came around. She told herself it was because he still wouldn’t wear one of the bracelets and she didn’t want him to miss out on any more hugs, but the truth was, she loved holding him close. Maybe it was because he seemed to enjoy hugging her, even though sometimes he still acted as if hugging other trolls was a nuisance. Or maybe it was just because she enjoyed touching him, breathing in his scent and feeling an excited tingle go through her when he squeezed her back.

“Who says I don’t feel the same way?” The words were out of her mouth before she realized she was going to speak.

His mouth dropped open, an adorably astonished look crossing his face. “What? I mean, you do?” He spread his hands out to the sides, one eyebrow raised. “Really?”

Honestly, she admitted, “It’s true that you haven’t always been the nicest person, and that even now sometimes you still do things that frustrate me – like, _really_ frustrate me - but I’ve also seen how hard you’ve worked to face your fears and fit in to troll society. You’ve made so much progress, and I’m really, really proud of you.”

His smile of embarrassed pride was beyond cute.

“It’s not just that. You’re important to me, Branch.” Her voice grew a little husky, as it always did when she got emotional. “You’re my best friend – my best troll-friend, I mean. I rely on you so much, and I know that you’ll always be there for me. I think about you a lot when we’re not together, and when we are, I feel so close to you.”

He swallowed. “I feel the same way about you. You know the worst things about me, but you still like me anyway. You can’t imagine how much that means to me.”

“Well, I’m the queen, and you _don’t_ care about that. That means a lot to _me_.”

His face reflected mild surprise, and then he gave her the warm smile that always made her feel good.

Encouraged, she placed a hand over her heart. “I love you, Branch. And it’s not the same as the love I feel for Dad, or Biggie or Cooper or Smidge, or any of my other friends. I don’t really even know how to describe it; I just know that what I feel for you is special.”

He closed the distance between them to take her hands in his, looking deeply into her eyes. “It’s always been you, Poppy. You’ve always been special to me. You reached out to me, no matter how much I tried to push everyone away. You cared about me.” He gave her a crooked grin. “Even though you drive me crazy with your elaborate, zany schemes, it’s worth it to have you in my life. I love you.”

“Aww, Branch.” A silly smile spread over her face and her heart began to pound as the impulse to fling herself into his arms and kiss him with wild abandon threatened to overwhelm her, but the memory of his arm, thrust between them like a barrier, kept intruding. He obviously still had a problem with physical affection. They would have to work on that.

But then he opened his arms wide, and gave her a smile with raised eyebrows and she threw her arms around his waist and squeezed tighter than she’d ever dared before. He pressed his cheek against hers, and it was all she could do to keep from moving just that last little bit to meet his lips with her own, but for his sake, she could take it slow. As long as he let her hold him, that was enough. For now.

She breathed him in, a mix of clean hair, warm skin and vanilla bubble bath, and snuggled deeper into the hug. It was soothing, as if the one nagging issue in her life had finally been smoothed out, healed, restored. “I’m so happy,” she murmured.

Branch shifted his hands slightly, pulling her a little closer. “Me, too. I can honestly say that I have never been as happy in my life as I am right now.”

She closed her eyes, letting the tension drain out of her and was pleased to feel him relax against her. It felt so good to be in his arms, so warm, so comforting. Her thoughts began to drift. “I’m so glad you’re here,” she murmured. “If you hadn’t come over just now, I was going to head out after dinner to look for you and help you find the flashbugs and give you-oh!”

She pulled away so she could reach up into her hair and bring out an extra-fancy, bejeweled invitation to the next day’s festival with Branch’s name on it. “Here, Branch. Sorry I didn’t give it to you earlier. You…you are coming, right?”

Although he was much more social than he had ever been, there were still certain holidays he disliked and tried to avoid attending, sometimes making a token appearance and then leaving as early as possible.

The aquamarine troll smiled and took the card from her. “Sure. I like the Festival of Beads. They’re decorative and they don’t make any noise. I also distributed pamphlets about the beads being a slipping or choking hazard and trained a group of trolls in the Heimlich Maneuver, so I think we’re ready.”

“Good safety protocols. Thanks, Branch.” Poppy always took care to praise him whenever he reached out to others. There was something so sweet about seeing him lavish so much caring attention on everyone. Of course, it would be nice if he could just relax and have fun; but then again, every once in a while he brought up a good point and a little bit of extra safety precaution couldn’t hurt, as long as he didn’t go overboard.

She also knew that it was important for her, as queen, to publicly support him so that everyone would be more likely to take him seriously. He’d spent too many years as the village outsider; everyone was used to excluding him, not out of animosity, but just as a matter of course. But if he cared enough to go to all this trouble, how could she _not_ support him?

Just then he opened the card, his eyes half-closed against the expected spray of glitter, but this time she’d chosen to have a pop-up troll-tree instead, decorated with tiny beads of all types.

“Hey, nice card,” Branch commented, his smile of pleasure making her thrill inwardly. He opened and closed it a few times, watching as the tree rotated so that a new side was facing him each time he opened it, admiring the way the bright beads shone or sparkled or simply looked cute. “I like the design.”

She beamed as she looked down modestly, his rare praise music to her ears. “Thank you.”

He set the card next to his clothes-pile and just as he stood up, his stomach growled rather audibly. Their eyes met, and they both began laughing.

The new couple had dinner together, with Poppy demonstrating how to cook her favorite omelet and Branch picking up the skill quickly, with his usual grace and excellent timing. He even showed off a little, throwing the omelets across the room to land precisely on the plates laid out on the table. He laughed more than she could ever remember hearing before, and each time sent a surge of joy through her, making her giddy. Or maybe that was just because she was in love.

When they were done eating and the kitchen cleaned up (of course; there was no way Branch would be happy in a home where there were dirty dishes) her new boyfriend looked around and some of his usual discomfort seemed to return.

Ever sensitive to his moods, Poppy asked, “What’s wrong, Branch?”

“So what’s the standard procedure here?”

Puzzled at the technical language, she asked, “What do you mean?”

He sighed and elaborated, “Normally at this point I’d head home, but it’s still raining and you did invite me to stay over. Even that wouldn’t be a big deal, since we have, after all, been friends for quite a while now, but there _has_ been a pretty major change in the status of our relationship in the last hour.”

He crossed his arms, his expression a mix of anxiety and expectation. “You’re the social one. What happens next? What are the rules?”

“Rules?” She opened her mouth and then closed it, a momentary thought of how differently they each approached life passing through her mind. Branch wasn’t comfortable with spontaneity. Rules made him feel secure, even when there was no real need for them.

“Well, um, of course you’re welcome to spend the night, Branch. But you know,” she walked up to him and gently touched his hand, “every couple is different. There’s no one set of rules; we can make up our own rules as we go. We can even change them if we feel like it.”

At her touch her new boyfriend seemed to relax somewhat, although he still looked a little lost. Gamely, he curled his hand around hers as she asked him, “What do you normally do after dinner?”

“I take a bath and then read a good book or do some writing, or tinker with a project. Lately I’ve been doing a little painting, too.”

“Those sound like fun hobbies. Maybe I can do something like that with you sometime.”

His eyes brightened. “Sure. You can even join me on the final perimeter check of the day and make sure none of my traps have been tripped.”

Her smile became a grimace. “Uhh, yeah. Sure. Hey, I know what we can do!”

He rolled his eyes. “Let me guess. Scrapbooking?”

She smiled at the look of fond tolerance on his face and suppressed the urge to kiss him on the nose. “You know me so well.”

He sighed. “Fine, but I’m not using glitter.”

The young couple spent the evening more or less contentedly scrapbooking various subjects according to themes: favorite foods, nature walks, cool dance moves. Each troll worked separately and displayed their work to the other when finished. Poppy always included the two of them somewhere on each page and was happy to see Branch do the same, despite his somewhat dismissive attitude toward her favorite hobby.

It wasn’t that he was bad at it – he was a brilliant mechanical engineer and had deft fingers and good imagination – it was just that he preferred building things he considered more useful.

“But it is useful from a social angle,” she pointed out. “This is how people bond with one another.”

“Oh.” He looked thoughtfully at the square of felt and pair of scissors in his hands, and his ears twitched a little as he absorbed the idea.

The last theme was, of course, romance. “I want to have something to remember today,” she declared, and gratifyingly, he nodded.

“Me, too.”

Each of them worked in silence, sitting on the rug across the low table from each other. Poppy enjoyed watching Branch work. He never did less than his best, and had the cute habit of sticking the tip of his tongue out of the corner of his mouth while he worked out particularly tricky details. _Aww, he’s smiling. I don’t think he even realizes it._

When it came time to show their work, Branch insisted she go first. “Okay,” she agreed, intensely curious but willing to make him happy since he was showing more enthusiasm than usual for her favorite hobby. She scooted around the low table until they were sitting on the floor facing each other and held the scrapbook up with its back toward her so he could see it.

“Once upon a time, there was a young troll princess who loved her people and wanted nothing more than to make them happy.” The first page showed a tiny pink troll standing on top of a tower of colorful dancing trolls.

“But there was one troll who was never happy.” A gray troll stood in the middle of a group of gleeful trolls, looking miserable and lonely. “The princess tried to make him happy by inviting him to parties, but he couldn’t enjoy them.” The pink princess held out an elaborate party invitation, while the gray troll stood with his arms crossed, a thought bubble over his head showing images of fearsome bergens in threatening poses.

Poppy tugged on a tab and the bergen popped off the page straight at Branch, who yelped and threw himself backward, rolling to his feet in a cool fighting pose a split second later. She blinked up at him, too impressed by his reflexes to want to laugh just then (she would later), and gave him a contrite look. “Sorry.”

Embarrassed, he sat back down on the rug, a little further from her this time. She stared at him, then decided to pretend nothing had happened and turned the page. “But one day the princess was in danger, and the gray troll knew just what to do.”

The page had a montage of images from their adventure. In one, the gray troll rode a huge roller skate, its rotating wheels sending four separate sprays of glitter all over Branch as his counterpart’s black hair stayed firmly entwined with the magenta hair of the airborne pink troll’s, never letting go. In another, he was standing up to a huge bergen, ready to fight her with only a spork while the princess and their friends ran to safety.

The last one was her favorite; a depiction of the soft smile and gentle eyes of the troll poet as he offered the pink troll a glimpse of his heart for the first time. Branch looked at the image for a long time while he brushed off the glitter, a matching smile relaxing his features and making her heart flutter in her chest.

“When the princess lost all hope, the gray troll did something he’d said he would never, never do, giving her back her hope and courage with a song. A beautiful song, an incredible song that made her feel loved at a time when she’d never felt less worthy, a song that gave her the strength to stand up and keep fighting when the light had left her heart.”

The left page showed two gray trolls kneeling on the ground in the dark; the male crooning sweetly, the female looking at him plaintively. The page on the right showed the two of them dancing, both with their colors bright, and shining pinks hearts in their chests.

Again, Branch studied the pages, a faraway look in his eyes. “I couldn’t bear to see you like that. I’d watched you overcome every challenge, coping with situations you’d never been prepared to handle and do it because you never gave up. As I would have. None of us would be here now if it had been up to me.”

“Oh, really?” He looked up, puzzled at the sly look on her face as she teased, “Want to bet on that?”

She turned the page to show their bergen friend, Bridget, her ear pressed against an ugly yellow pot that had musical notes drifting from the air holes. Surprised, he met Poppy’s eyes. “She heard me?”

Poppy beamed at him proudly. “She told me it was your song that made her decide to free us. She said,” the pink troll’s voice went a little husky, “no one who loved someone so much should have to die just so her people could be happy. She chose _us_ over her own people, because of you.”

He looked stunned, glancing down at the page and then back at her. She gave him a loving smile, and his expression softened. “Because of you, too,” he responded warmly. “It never would have occurred to me to befriend a bergen, let alone figure out a different way for them to be happy that didn’t involve eating trolls. You’re amazing.”

She bounced happily as she basked in his approval. “Thank you. So are you. And I couldn’t have done it without you.”

The next page had a typical happy-ending scene, with dancing trolls and bergens, bursts of glitter, and the now brightly-colored male troll holding hands with the pink female.

The page after that was another montage of more recent adventures. “No longer did the blue troll withdraw to his underground bunker; instead he chose to brave all the dangers of the world to stay by the side of the one he loved.”

The last page had the two of them hugging and smiling happily. “And she was very glad to have him there.”

He smiled, looking to the side as if he were a little embarrassed.

“So, what did you think?”

“Definitely one of my favorites. I may even want to read that one again,” he joked. “That one character is just so heroic.”

Poppy giggled. “Okay, your turn.”


	3. Branch's Tale

Branch cleared his throat and held his own scrapbook up so she could see it. “Once there was a gray troll who believed that life was just a struggle for survival. He believed that the other trolls, who spent their days laughing while they worked and working to have fun, had their priorities all wrong.”

The first page had a frowning gray troll carrying a basket full of nuts and berries, glaring at a village of trolls who were laughing and playing.

“He felt as if he could never relax, because the moment he did, something terrible would happen to him, or to someone he cared about.” The page showed the gray troll miserably sitting curled up into a ball, a thought balloon over his head showing a tiny blue trolling futilely reaching for a terrified lavender female troll who was in the clutch of a giant fist, being pulled up into the sky.

“In fact, he tried not to care about anyone at all, living as though his heart lay behind a golden door without a key.”

Poppy smiled softly as the poet she so loved began to emerge, although Branch didn’t seem to realize it.

“His fellow trolls desired not to be in his company, nor he in theirs, although in truth there were times when solitude weighed heavily upon him.” Here the scene was of a crowd of trolls all holding hands, with their backs to the gray troll as he stood outside their circle, looking hurt.

“And yet there was one who seemed to hold the gray troll in some regard.” The page showed a happy, pretty pink troll with a leafy crown upon her head who was leading a line of dancing, singing trolls. “The princess of the trolls sought in all earnestness to bring her wayward subject back into the fold, despite his sour nature and perpetual rejection of hand-crafted entreaties to share his company...”

There was a montage of the smiling pink troll speaking or singing cheerfully to the gray troll or offering him a personalized invitation, and then looking unhappy as he either accepted the invitation and then made polite excuses, turned his back and walked away, or threw her invitation into the air over his shoulder. The last picture was the worst of all, when she’d so outraged him that he’d snapped and literally stomped on the elaborately-constructed collection of paper, springs and glitter, shocking everyone.

But then Branch turned the page and continued softly, “…Entreaties which, unbeknownst to the princess, the gray troll treasured greatly; often admiring them in the privacy of his subterranean stronghold.”

Poppy recognized his bunker, which had two wall nooks with their curtains drawn back to display a collection of tiny invitations; cute little miniatures of invitations that she herself had made. The invitation he’d crushed under his foot was sitting open on the table nearby, perfectly reconstructed.

“Aww, Branch…” She put a hand on her chest. “You kept them?”

He nodded bashfully, and Poppy felt a sentimental smile spread over her face.

“Then one day the princess came to him and asked for his help, and yielding to his instincts, he turned her away. Regret came swiftly, but the words had been spoken.” The page showed the gray troll with arms crossed and his back turned, a miserable look on his face as a despondent pink troll walked away from him. “Yet mere minutes passed before the gray troll followed. Perhaps he might have lingered, naysaying any forward progress, if not for a sudden invasion of irksome refugees that he was unable in good faith to refuse.”

Here Branch raised an eyebrow at Poppy, who smirked a little, but then her face softened as he went on, “But in the end, he knew that he would never let her face the dangers of the forest all on her own.”

The next page had a montage of the princess getting into all kinds of mischief, with the gray troll shadowing her protectively but not interfering as she managed to make her own way forward. “He followed the sound of her brave (and catchy) ballads for hours as his grudging admiration for her indomitable spirit grew, but still he hoped she would see the futility of her mission and turn back.”

“I didn’t know you were following me,” Poppy commented, looking impressed.

“Until the time came when the princess ran afoul of a nest of giant evil spiders and the gray troll leaped to her defense, driving the beasts away and then reviving the princess, who looked to be near death, with creatures of lightning.” The page showed a tiny gray troll snapping a long stream of black hair in the face of a gigantic furry spider with huge teeth as he bravely defended what looked like a ball of white yarn. The magenta hair sprouting from one end gave mute evidence of her helpless, unconscious state.

The next picture was of the pink princess being jolted by a pair of sparkbugs held in the hands of a worried-looking gray troll.

“Really? So I was that close to being…” She swallowed. “Thank you, Branch.”

He nodded. “If I’d been just a few seconds later…” He looked grim. “I still have nightmares about that.”

“Sorry,” she said remorsefully, and repeated earnestly, “Thank you for coming after me.”

His blue eyes were sincere as he replied, “Thank _you_ for making me. When I think about how different life would be right now, for those of us who might have managed to survive…without you…”

He closed his eyes as a shudder passed through him, and Poppy’s heart leaped into her throat at the intensely anguished look on his face, his care lines deeply furrowed. _No troll should ever, ever look so sad._ She reached out and patted his arm. At her touch he opened his eyes and she gave him a comforting smile. The corners of his mouth turned up a little, and the lines around his eyes smoothed.

After a moment Branch continued, “The longer he traveled with the princess, the more his respect for her grew. Her fortitude and unwavering resolve, no matter how hopeless the outcome, inspired him. She did not accept that nothing could be done; always she looked for some way to bring about good fortune. As he followed her lead, the gray troll slowly came to share her confidence; to believe that he had been wrong to decide at the outset that there was nothing to be done to prevent tragedy from befalling them, their fellows…and yes, even their enemy. He learned to believe in her, and in himself.”

Another montage showed the princess and the gray troll fearlessly leaping from a chandelier down toward a young female bergen pushing a cart with a small cloth-covered cage on it, then that same cage with its door open and their friends escaping, and finally, a pair of happy, roller-skating bergens, one with two familiar-looking trolls poking their heads out of a rainbow-colored wig.

Branch paused, looking up at her and admitting quietly, “Also, when the gray troll finally trusted her with the dark secret that he’d carried around his whole life, she didn’t blame him, the way he blamed himself. Instead she gave him the love, support and forgiveness he’d needed so badly, making him feel like he could finally, maybe, forgive himself, and move on with a lighter heart.”

“Oh, Branch.” Poppy moved to sit beside him on the rug and put her arms around him, scrapbook and all. He leaned his head against hers as they shared a quiet moment of appreciation for each other.

When he finally lifted his head and she let him go, she didn’t move from his side, so he set the scrapbook on his lap so they could both see it and turned the page.

“Yet even the princess was not immune to despair. In her darkest hour, when everyone she cared for was in peril because of her, her courage failed her and she sank into a dismal, colorless fog of guilt and hopelessness. It shook the gray troll to his very core. Here was his beautiful, bold princess, her head bowed under the weight of the very selfsame emotions that had troubled him all his life – yes, he understood her all too well. He could not bear it, to see her become…like him. Someone who spurned the affection of others as a way to punish himself.”

Poppy looked at the small gray image of herself, who was covering her bracelet and turning her face away in shame from the open arms of the gently smiling male troll who hadn’t offered to hug anyone in far too many years. She tried to swallow the sudden lump in her throat, her eyes stinging. _Oh, Branch…_

“Yet seeing his own soul reflected in her finally made the gray troll fully aware of the change within himself. No longer did he believe that ever there was a time to abandon all hope. His princess had taught him to see the bright side of any dilemma, even as she had learned from him - to his shame - to see the dark side. But still he believed in her - in truth, all unawares of just how much he had come to believe in her - until she no longer believed in herself. There _had_ to be something he could do, something he could say, but no words would come.”

“And then he knew. A way to lift her spirits. Something to which she always responded; the perfect way to get through to her. And so, after twenty long years, the gray troll sang. He sang words of cheer, words of fidelity, words of his unwavering faith in her. He pledged that he would always be there for her, should she ever need him.”

Poppy trembled as a rush of love went through her. Of all trolls, the one who should have been the first to give up had instead become the source of strength she and the other trolls had desperately needed. Her heartbeat quickened as she remembered his sensitive, tender voice, his gentle hands and the openly adoring look in his eyes as he brought her back from the terrible grayness.

On the page, the young male troll knelt at the feet of his princess, whose feet and legs had begun to turn pink again. “The princess smiled at him, as her colors and her spirit returned to her. And then it was that the gray troll could finally confess that he loved her with all his heart, and he hoped that she might share that feeling. Then she touched his hand and looked into his eyes, and the last of the darkness lifted from his heart. And his colors returned to him.”

He turned the page and Poppy caught a glimpse the two of them gazing soulfully into each other’s eyes, the palms of their hands pressing against one another’s as a band of bright aqua-blue light spread slowly up the gray troll’s arm toward his heart. She looked up into his counterpart’s brilliant blue eyes, unable to stop herself from reaching out to put her hand lovingly on his cheek.

Branch seemed equally unable to tear his gaze away from her, murmuring without looking at the scrapbook, “She had found the key to the golden door after all.” He reached up to press her palm against his cheek, then pulled it away from his face so he could wrap his large warm hand around hers.

“And he knew from that point on that he would stay by her side forevermore.”

“Oh, Branch,” she whispered. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Poppy. And I always will.”

Eyes locked, the young queen felt something she now recognized as passion rising within her. She remembered her dream, and how his skin had felt beneath her hands earlier, and realized how much she wanted to kiss him right now. _How can I encourage him?_

Then she had an idea. “You won.”

He looked puzzled. “Won? Won what?”

She shrugged, trying to act casual despite her pounding heart. “The scrapbooking contest,” she said nonchalantly. “Yours wins the romantic category, hands down.”

“Oh. I thought you meant I’d won your heart.”

She gave him a wry smile. “That, too.”

“Wait a minute, since when we were having a competition?” he asked as he let go of her hand so that he could close his scrapbook and set it on the table.

“I just decided now,” she said carelessly, avoiding his gaze so he couldn’t see the heat in her eyes.

He rolled his eyes. “Poppy, you can’t just decide afterward.”

“I’m the queen; I can do what I want. Besides, don’t you want to hear what the prize is?”

“There’s a prize?”

She nodded, leaning ever so close to whisper in his ear. “A kiss from the queen of the trolls.”

Branch turned to look at her, his expression going from surprise to a shy smile, one corner of his mouth turning up. He began to lean toward her and her breath caught. She lifted her chin, her eyes going half-lidded.

Then he hesitated, a serious look coming into his eyes, and he turned his face away. “Thanks. I, uh, maybe just not right now.”

She felt her expression crumple. “You don’t want to kiss me?”

“Oh, no, no, no, no, no, it’s not that!” he reassured her hastily, waving his hands rapidly in the air between them. “It’s just that…” He looked to the side, his face softening into a sheepish smile. “I’d always pictured our first kiss somewhere a little more…romantic.”

“Branch!” Delight overwhelmed her disappointment. “You imagined us kissing?”

Blushing lavender, he nodded.

Suddenly she was burning with curiosity. “Where?”

He stared at her, then slid his gaze to the side. “It’s a secret.”

Half astonished, half confused, she wondered why he was being so distant again when he suddenly flicked his eyes toward her and then away again.

_Wait a minute…_

“You’re being coy, aren’t you?” She could feel a silly grin spread over her face.

The aquamarine troll gave her a brief look of surprise, then looked away again. He smiled playfully and peeked at her from the corners of his eyes. “Mayybe.”

She bounced to her feet, beaming gleefully. “Ooo, you are so _adorable!”_ she gushed.

He ducked his head a little, his embarrassed grin so overwhelmingly cute it was all she could do to keep from grabbing him and kissing him right then and there.

“Okay, then tomorrow-”

“Tomorrow’s the Beadfest,” he reminded her.

“Oh, right. Then the day _after_ tomorrow-”

“I have cleanup duty.”

“No, you don’t.” She gave him a puzzled look. “It’s Gia’s team this week.”

“Right, and Gia has her baby, who might find a stray bead and-”

“Braanch…” she groaned as she dropped her head to one side and gave him a look of exasperation. _Why do you always have to be like this?_ “Some things in life are more important than keeping things neat and tidy!”

He stood up and looked her in the eye, his quiet resolve calming her impatience and gaining her respect before he even spoke.

“Poppy, every year I follow along after the cleaning team and I always find a couple dozen beads, under bushes and mushrooms, caught in tree bark, furniture, pod walls, even in trolls’ hair. They get everywhere. I started doing it eight years ago after I heard that a trolling almost choked to death on a leftover bead.”

“I remember that.” Subdued, she added, “That was the year that Dad organized the entire village into dedicated cleanup teams, to help prevent things like that from happening again.”

He gave her a smug look. “I know.”

“Wait a minute…” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Dad said he got the plan from ‘a concerned citizen who wanted to remain anonymous’. I remember because seriously, who _does_ that? It drove me crazy, trying to figure it out. That was _you?”_

“Yes.” He shrugged, obviously trying to look nonchalant. “I figured it was a good idea to have as many eyes as possible on the lookout.”

She read his face and smirked. _“And_ it was a good way to get things cleaned up as fast and as thoroughly as possible, right? I’ve seen that plan. It’s incredibly detailed; eleven teams of twenty adult trolls each, with each team being on alternating duty for five weeks each year. They’re even listed by name and organized so that there’s a good mix of younger and older trolls in case there are tasks that need strength or agility.”

She shook her head, half admiring, half amused. "I should have realized it was you.” Her voice held a rich, deep note of fondness for the former recluse.

His pleased smile made her remember her resolve to encourage him, especially when his efforts involved the rest of troll society. “Anyway, that’s really sweet and caring of you, Branch. Thank you.” She opened her arms and wrapped them around him, enjoying how he warmly returned the hug.

Her voice grew a little husky. “All these years, you’ve been misunderstood and unappreciated, when all you were trying to do was keep everyone safe. You’re so wonderful, Branch.”

He cleared his throat. “Thanks. But I know I’m not always the easiest troll to get along with. I don’t think like the other trolls, and I probably never will. I – I get nervous sometimes. And sometimes I let my temper get away from me. But it makes me really happy to know that you love me anyway, even though I’m still not sure how you can be seriously interested in someone so different from you.”

“Oh, Branch.” She gave him an affectionate squeeze and then leaned back, sliding her hands down his arms to clasp his hands tenderly, not wanting to let him go.

“I’m not exactly mellow myself,” she pointed out. “You’ve said it before; sometimes I can get so caught up in one of my ‘crazy, elaborate plans’ that I don’t see when I’ve gone too far. I guess I don’t like to admit when I’m wrong. And because I’m queen, the other trolls usually just go along with whatever I say, even when they have misgivings or feel as if they’re not being treated fairly. I never realized there could be such a thing as too much harmony.”

She paused for a moment to think about that, then noticed his smirk, and grinned. “But now I have you to be my sounding board; to help me see things from a different perspective. Don’t you see? We balance each other, Branch.”

“Poppy, you never listen to me,” he said wryly.

She plonked her hands on her hips. “Okay, that’s not true. I’ve implemented some of your safety procedures, haven’t I? And I listened when you protested at band practice because I was hogging the spotlight.”

“Actually, it was more like I was afraid of getting squashed by a giant cowbell. And I had to howl at the top of my lungs to get you to listen.”

She pointed a finger at him. “But you _did_ speak up. And _you_ did get my attention. You made me hear your distress. And when you did, you made me realize that the others probably felt the same way, but they didn’t want to be discordant and-”

“Oh, save me. Puns, now?” Branch said in mock-dourness, rolling his eyes.

Caught off guard, Poppy let out a peal of laughter. Happiness bubbled up inside as he joined her in merriment, and her heart soared at his new playfulness.

“It’s true that in some ways we’re very different from each other, but I think that just means that we have a lot we can learn from each other.” She placed a hand over her heart, her tone softer now. “But in the ways that matter most, we’re the same, Branch. We both care a lot about making life better, for each other and for all the rest of the village. Both of us are willing to do whatever it takes to keep us all safe and happy, and that’s what’s important.”

Her face grew solemn. “Branch, did you ever wonder why I never had a boyfriend before now?”

“Boyfriend.” For a moment he seemed distracted. “I’m your boyfriend. And that makes you my girlfriend…” He shook his head slightly. “Ahem, well, wasn’t there someone you were interested in…a long, long time ago?”

“There are drawbacks to being the queen, especially when it comes to my closest relationships,” Poppy explained with uncharacteristic solemnity. “You know how they say no one ever really knows how you’ll react in a crisis; when your character is tested under extreme circumstances? Branch, when we were challenged, both of us chose a path that led to the good of everyone, not like…someone who chose one that only benefitted himself.”

“Oh, you mean like he whose name I will never speak again if I can help it.”

She raised an eyebrow at his stubbornness, but let it go for now. “Right. Although it may not be fair to judge Creek so harshly.” She looked away, her brow furrowing in a troubled frown.

When she finally spoke, Branch had to lean close to hear her. “I sometimes wonder what I might have done if I’d been the one in Gristle’s mouth. Maybe I’d have made the same choice he did.”

“Never.” He shook his head vehemently. “Poppy, you’d give your life for any one of us. You’re the bravest, most selfless troll in the entire village. If anyone was likely to let fear turn him traitor, it’d be me.” He looked ashamed, turning away from her with his shoulders slumped. “When I was being pulled into that bergen’s mouth, I was terrified. If you hadn’t pushed me out of the way, I’d have been eaten right then.”

Poppy put a hand on his arm, protesting, “But Branch, don’t you see; you’re the bravest of all of us.”

He took a step backward. “Wait, what?”

Her magenta eyes shone with sincerity as she held his gaze. “You’ve spent your entire life terrified of the bergens, but when you actually had to face them, you didn’t freeze up. You didn’t panic. You were cool and rational and able to think on your feet and you always had my back when I needed you. You’re brave precisely because you don’t let fear stop you from doing what needs to be done. And I know that I can always count on you.”

She gave him an earnest smile. “You should know that I find that fact extremely attractive.”

“Poppy,” he murmured, his sky blue eyes shimmering with emotion.

_Please don’t look at me like that. It makes me want to-_

“Are you sure you want to wait to kiss me?” she blurted out.

The aquamarine troll hesitated long enough for her to hope, but then answered softly, “It’s really tempting, Poppy, but – Listen, how about we spend the entire day together, the day after cleanup day? It’ll be worth the wait, I promise.”

“Okay. I promise, too. It’s a date.” She smiled, then sighed, resigning herself to be patient. “I trust you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The “giant cowbell” reference comes from a Trolls short on Youtube called Trolla-palooza, where Branch is part of a music band and Poppy gets too carried away with a playing a giant cowbell.


	4. Belly Laughs and Bedtime Cuddles

Branch gave her a smile of pure happiness, the care lines crinkling in the corners of his eyes. “There are times when this still feels like a dream,” he confessed. “I should have said something sooner, but I was so happy to finally have you for a friend that I was afraid to do anything that might upset that.”

Poppy brightened as the word “dream” made her remember her own, which had come true much faster than she had ever hoped for, and she realized that this was the perfect opportunity to get closer to him. “Branch, what would you do if this were all a dream?”

He mock-shuddered. “Don’t even joke about that.” 

The aquamarine troll gazed into the distance, a slow smile growing on his lips. “I suppose I would say something like-” He reached for her hand and suddenly all she could see were his magnetic blue eyes.

“Your invisible corona shines so bright, I need only close my eyes to feel your radiance upon my skin.” He placed his other hand over his heart. “Indeed, all I need to brighten my day is the mere mention of your name, a glimpse of pink, or the whisper of your voice in the distance.”

“That was beautiful, Branch,” she said admiringly. Then the pink troll raised an eyebrow at him. “You’re quite the charmer.”

She enjoyed the bashful way he let go of her hand and blushed, a silly smile on his face. “Thanks.”

She leaned forward. “So tell me, have you ever dreamed about me?”

He blushed harder.

Poppy grinned. “So you have! What did you dream about? Tell me!”

He shuffled his feet and looked down. 

“You don’t want to tell me?”

“No, it’s not that, it’s just that…some of it is…embarrassing.” 

She grinned. “Now I’m _really_ curious.” __

__“And some of it I’d like to save, to be a surprise for our date.” He spoke as if he were savoring the words. “Our first date.”

“You were the same way in my dream,” she told him. “You liked to surprise me.”

“I did? Wait.” He tilted his head as one corner of his mouth turned upward. “You dreamed about me?”

“Well, yeah. I mean, you did sing that you loved me, and then we became closer and I started to notice all the good things about you. Then just this morning I had a dream that-” suddenly she understood what Branch had meant by embarrassing, “-that made me realize…” She could feel her face turning red.

“That you wanted me?” he finished for her, his tone unexpectedly understanding.

“Yes!” She let out a pent-up breath in a rush. “That’s why I touched you earlier. I didn’t understand; I’ve never felt like that before, not even with…him.”

“Really?” He blew out a relieved huff of air. “That’s good to hear. I know I’m not exactly suave when it comes to good looks.”

Her forehead wrinkled in incomprehension. “Branch, what are you talking about? You’re very handsome,” she contradicted him.

His shoulders dropped and he turned his face aside. “Poppy…”

Her eyes widened. “You mean you really don’t know that?”

“How could I be handsome?” For the first time all evening, he scowled at her and gestured a scornful hand at himself. “I spent twenty years as gray as a rock!”

“Even when you were gray, I always thought you were handsome, Branch,” she said quietly.

He blinked. The lines around his eyes eased a little as he saw that she honestly meant what she’d said, but now he looked baffled.

Poppy gave him a kind smile. “I may not have your talent for poetry, but maybe it’ll help if I tell you how _I_ see you.” 

Her smile turned dreamy as memories of a certain lonely gray troll rose up before her eyes. “I couldn’t help but notice you, you know. Sometimes I’d see you contemplating a flower or gazing at a sunset, and for a little while, you’d let your guard down and look so peaceful. Sometimes you’d even smile a little, and I’d notice how much nicer you looked, and I’d think, ‘That’s someone I’d really like to get to know better.’ I used to think you were so mysterious when I was younger.” She giggled. “Also, I thought your black hair looked really cool.”

“You…liked my black hair?”

“Yes, it was so unique and exotic; something no other troll had. A really strong, bold color. I even turned my own hair black once in a while, just to see how it felt.”

The smile he gave her was both puzzled and appreciative. “Really?”

She nodded. “Believe me, Branch, you are really, really good-looking. Your eyes…” She winked at him. “…are like two blue pools, fascinating and…deep enough for me to dive into, to, um, to explore the mysteries of your soul. And your ears-”

The mellow look on his face went sour and he pressed his outward-tilted ears against the sides of his head as if he wanted to hide them. Poppy felt a twinge in her heart as her expression softened with compassion.

“Branch.” Tenderly, she placed her fingers at the base of his ears and moved them back to where they should be. “I love your ears. They’re so beautiful and unique.”

He held still, moving only his eyes from side to side before meeting her gaze. “Seriously? I always thought they looked weird.”

“Of course not. They’re very elegant; so gracefully curved…” Poppy slid her fingers up the length of his ears, and felt him shiver. She paused to contemplate his reaction, noting how his eyes had closed as if he couldn’t help himself. _Got it. He likes his ears touched._

“And they have those cute little pointed tips.” She ran her thumbs over the tips of his ears and let her fingers slowly glide back down along the undersides of his ears, enjoying how much pleasure he seemed to feel from such a simple act as he tilted his head up and leaned forward on his toes, a dreamy smile on his face. _Now I want to kiss them. And him. And - I’d better stop now before I break my promise._

__Reluctantly, she let go of them and watched as he slowly opened his eyes, turning his head and moving his ears as if to shake off the spell she had cast on him.

Poppy smiled, pleased by his reaction, and then it occurred to her to add, “Plus, you can actually move your ears.”

Branch gave her a puzzled look. “Well, sure…can’t everybody?”

“No,” she replied, looking surprised. “No one I know can move their ears except you.”

“Really? But it’s not hard.” He flicked his ears up and down a few times, and Poppy giggled at the sight. Branch looked startled for a moment, then did it again, and when she burst into laughter he began to chuckle himself. 

Poppy couldn’t stop herself, blurting out her words in between chortles. “Branch, that is - the cutest thing - I have ever seen!” 

He looked pleased at her words, a playful twinkle coming into his eyes. As their laughter waned, he gave her a mischievous look and twitched his ears again. Poppy tried to catch her breath and ended up snorting, which set him off all over again. Helpless with mirth, Poppy laughed so hard her cheeks grew sore and her stomach ached, but the look of joy on his face was worth it. 

Finally, worn out but happy, the young couple grew quiet. “Oh, that was a good laugh,” Poppy said contentedly. “I used to think I’d never hear you laugh. Now it’s one of my favorite sounds in the whole world.”

“I haven’t laughed like that since… I don’t think I’ve ever laughed like that,” Branch admitted. He rubbed a hand across his stomach. “It kinda hurts.”

“Me, too. I didn’t realize; with all my new responsibilities as queen, I’ve gotten out of the habit,” Poppy admitted. “I guess we both need some more practice. And some more fun. Tell you what; in a few days when our muscles have recovered, let’s have a tickle game.”

He grinned. “Sounds good.” 

Suddenly her Hug Time bracelet went off, chiming three times to signal the end of the day. She glanced down at the bright pink glowing flower on her wrist in surprise. “Oh, is it that late already?”

Branch opened his arms wide, and she moved into them, enjoying his warm embrace as always, even as she began to realize how tired she was. She yawned, then released him and headed toward her bed to turn down the covers. _Will he want to share my pillow, or should I find him his own? I have an extra one around here somewhere…_

“Um, Poppy…” 

“Yes, Branch?”

When she turned around she saw him staring at her bed. Then his eyes met hers and he looked flustered, a lavender blush blooming on his cheeks. 

“Branch, what is it?” 

He didn’t quite meet her gaze, shuffling around as if embarrassed or uneasy. “I’ve heard that there are other…games we can play together that are good for exercising the stomach muscles, too.” 

“Oh?” 

His oddly understated tone and the slightly nervous hitch in his speech hinted that it was more than a casual comment. For a moment she just stood there, puzzled, but then he looked up and gave her a little smile. His head tilted to the side and his eyes grew half-lidded as they moved down her body, before meeting hers again. His gaze seemed to deepen, drawing her in, the silent offer in his eyes nevertheless speaking volumes.

“Ohh,” she repeated, catching on. Intrigued, she examined his body, noting his strong shoulders and the fine muscles that only enhanced the few places where he was gently rounded. _He really is the perfect blend between strength and cuddliness..._

He caught the contemplative look on her face and backtracked, holding up his hands. “Not tonight, of course,” he said nervously, “I mean, we have to be up early tomorrow to prepare for the festival, plus we haven’t even kissed yet, but, well, at some point in the future, maybe…”

She had an impulse to tease him, but one look at the panic on his face and his extreme reaction the last time she had touched him came back to her. “Not _too_ long in the future, right?” she said instead, smiling at him with lowered lashes. “That’s a game I’m definitely interested in learning.”

As he blushed again, she had to stop herself from taking his face in her hands and kissing him right then and there, promise or no promise. “Okay, stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“If you get any cuter I’m going to have a hard time keeping my promise to wait for our date.”

His entire face went lavender, and she took a little satisfaction over watching him squirm. _He is so adorable!_

__She turned to head back toward her bed, expecting him to follow her, but when she looked over her shoulder she saw him heading for the door. Curious, she watched as he retrieved his clothes bundle from the floor and brought it near her bed to where her many-layered carpet was thickest, then knelt and began to fold the clothes into a neat pile.

“Branch, what are you doing? Kind of an odd time to be doing laundry, isn’t it?”

“I’m getting ready to go to sleep,” he replied, as if it were obvious. “I don’t have any bedding since I wasn’t planning on staying overnight, so I’ll just use my clothes as a pillow.”

A flurry of thoughts flashed through her mind. _Why do you always have to be so self-sufficient? Sharing is what trolls do! Ugh, you’re so frustrating!_

__And yet, in a strange way it was somehow appealing, to know someone who didn’t look to her to take the lead, someone who could think for himself. Someone who felt very much like her equal, even when they were on opposing sides of some issue.

She knew he wasn’t trying to make her feel lonely or rejected, but she did, watching him calmly preparing for sleep as if she and a perfectly good bed weren’t right there. She clenched her teeth, restraining the impulse to order him to join her. _He’s not used to thinking about how others feel,_ she reminded herself. _Or he doesn’t want us to share a bed so we won’t be tempted to break our promise. Or he could just be scared. Intimacy is still so new to him. Maybe he just needs some alone time?_

He looked up at her questioningly, and she realized she was still standing next to her bed with a somewhat tense look on her face. Reflexively she smiled and began going around the room, covering the lights until the only illumination was the diffuse pink-tinted moonlight, filtered through the hair-dome above them. As she returned to her bed she saw an unfamiliar shadow on the carpet next to it.

“Good night, Poppy,” he said, his quiet tone giving no hint as to what he was feeling. 

She bit her lip. His needs or hers?

“I love you,” he added sincerely, and some of her tension went away.

“Good night, Branch,” she said softly. She got into bed and rolled on her side to face his resting form. “I love you, too.”

Time passed but she did not sleep, mulling over everything that had happened between them this evening and how fast it had all seemed to happen, even if the events leading up to it had taken months. In a way, it was almost like the bergen attack; a single event that had shifted her life abruptly onto a new course. She had even become queen long before she otherwise might have. 

Her optimistic decision to throw the monumental party that had been meant to celebrate freedom from the threat of the bergens had, in a roundabout way, accomplished exactly that – and so much more.

_And now I have Branch, a Branch he might never have become, a sweet, sensitive Branch I might never have known was hiding beneath that grumpy exterior. Only, he’s still hiding what he feels. Or is he? Am I just making a big deal out of nothing?_

__She tossed and turned, her thoughts shifting between worries and reassurances, unable to calm down enough to sleep. Poppy rolled over to the edge of the bed nearest him, looking down at his still form, almost close enough to touch. She pictured herself getting out of bed and laying down on the carpet next to him, just to be near him.

Finally she could stand it no more. “Branch, are you awake?” she whispered.

“Yes,” he replied quietly. “Is something wrong? Do you get insomnia too?”

‘ _Too’? He gets insomnia? Poor Branch; no wonder he was always so cranky. I know there are times when I’ve been too_ excited _to sleep, but never like this, where I’m so conflicted I can barely think._

__She sat up, looking down at his dim silhouette in the pale pink moonlight, her mind swirling with thoughts that she tried to distill into some semblance of order.

She wanted to sound polite; curious, but not demanding, but as she opened her mouth the desolate memory of waking up this morning from her beautiful dream of their life together to find his place in her bed cold and empty engulfed her. 

“Why don’t you want to share my bed with me?” she whimpered.

“Poppy…” He sounded shaken. “I –” There was a nearly silent rustle, her bed shifted and suddenly his arms were around her, her face pressed into his solid chest. She held him tightly, grasping his tank top in her fists, feeling him rock her soothingly as he murmured into her hair, “I’m so sorry, Sunshine. I didn’t mean to make you feel excluded. Believe me, I know how that feels. I guess I just thought it would make things less complicated.”

“‘Complicated?’”

“It’s just-” He sounded as if he was struggling to find the words. “First I ask you to wait, and then I expect to sleep in your bed with you? Like _that_ wouldn’t be contradictory.”

“I guess I hadn’t thought of that.” _So he_ was _thinking about my feelings._ She felt herself relaxing against him, sliding her arms up his warm back. _And I_ was _worrying over nothing. Maybe he was as well. I should take my own advice and make sure he knows how I feel, too._ “I was really looking forward to at least being able to cuddle with you,” she explained, wondering how he would react.

She heard him draw in a quick breath, holding himself still, his heart beginning to beat rapidly under her ear. “Really?” he said finally. “Um, I’d like that. Very much.”

She waited, but after a minute she realized he might be unsure what he ought to do. Aside from the demands of Hug Time, he’d spent many years isolating himself from the affection of other trolls. “Here,” she said with a smile, folding back the covers and sliding to the side to give him more space. 

He moved closer to her and she gently pressed on his chest until he lay down on his back, then pulled up the covers and snuggled down next to him. The pink troll nuzzled her face into his neck and slid an arm over his body, her hand resting in the center of his chest.

Poppy gave a sleepy, blissful sigh. _Everything’s all right now._

As she relaxed her body into his, she gradually became aware that something felt off. The former recluse lay stiffly next to her, and his breathing was odd, too. _Too fast, too shallow. And his heart’s pounding under my hand._ She imagined his eyes darting rapidly back and forth, seeking escape. _A panic attack?_ She felt a pang of remorse. _Maybe I pushed things too fast._

__“Branch,” she murmured as softly as she could, but she still felt the jolt that passed through him. “Do you want me to let go? I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

His breathing grew louder as his mouth opened, but he said nothing as she waited anxiously. “No,” he finally answered. “I’m – I’ll be all right in a minute.”

His breathing changed. Her arm rose and fell as he began to draw in long, slow breaths, and then her elbow too was lifted as his belly filled. He held each breath for a while, then slowly released the air. Poppy held still, wondering if she should move away but afraid to in case she set him off again.

Finally after what felt like a long time but was probably only a couple of minutes she felt him grow more relaxed, and his heartbeat subsided until she could no longer feel it under her palm. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to freak you out,” they said together, and Branch actually made an amused sound through his nose.

“Poppy, there’s nothing for you to be sorry about. I’m really glad you want to cuddle with me. It’s my fault. I didn’t realize it would affect me so strongly or I would have warned you. It just…brought back a lot of old memories. Love and loss, you know?”

She couldn’t speak at first through the lump in her throat. “Are you okay now?” she asked wistfully, her voice gone husky again. _I feel so bad for him._

__“Sure.” He still sounded a little strained.

“Should I let go?” She started to pull her hand back from his chest, but stopped when he covered it with his.

“Don’t go. Please.” He pressed his cheek against the side of her head. “If it doesn’t bother you too much, stay with me. I – I want to get used to it. To having someone close.”

“Oh, Branch.” She was so touched that she had to quell a sudden impulse to wrap her hair protectively around him. She wondered what else she could do to make this easier on him. “I’m so proud of you.”

He didn’t answer, but she felt him smile. 

“It’s okay to be nervous, you know,” she added reassuringly. 

“So, um, do you have sleepovers often?” he said abruptly, sounding as if he was asking questions to keep himself distracted. 

Well, she could certainly oblige. “Oh yes, I’ve been to sleepovers all my life. Half the time we all end up in one big pile.” She giggled. “One time, Smidge ended up on the bottom of the pile and the next thing we knew, we all woke up swinging from her hair in mid-air with her scolding us for picking on a poor defenseless little troll!”

“Defenseless?” She caught the note of humor in his tone. “Smidge?”

Encouraged, she continued, “I know, right? Biggie started thrashing around and howling that he was going to be sick and then the rest of us were yelling because we didn’t want to him to barf all over us, and-” 

She broke off as he started chuckling in earnest. “Ow, my stomach!” His hand lifted off hers as he used it to support his much-abused midsection. “Poppy, _please_ don’t make me laugh right now, okay?” he moaned in a long-suffering tone.

“Sorry,” she said contritely, but inside she was singing as she felt his body relaxing against hers. Slowly she moved her hand from his chest to his stomach and thrilled inwardly as he let her thread her fingers through his, so happy she tingled all over.

Branch pulled in a deep breath and let it out as a long, contented sigh. “I love you, Sunshine,” he murmured, his voice low and affectionate.

She pressed her arm against his soft belly in a one-armed hug. “You called me that earlier.”

“That’s how I think of you. You’re my own personal sun, always bright and cheerful. Just the thought of you makes me happy.”

“I thought you told Bridget my smile was brighter than the sun,” she teased him.

“You remember that?”

“Of course.” She squeezed his hand gently. “I didn’t realize it at the time, but I think I might have fallen for you even then, even though I wasn’t sure you were talking about me. I’d never seen anyone be so…romantic.”

She thought back to that day. The gray-skinned, black-haired troll had shown a side of himself that she’d never seen before, as he knelt on Bridget’s head inside the cloud of rainbow troll-hair, compassionately helping his former enemy, murmuring tender words of love within the private little world that had somehow felt as safe and secluded as…as his bunker did to him, maybe. Maybe he had finally begun to relax, just enough to be able to open up and show his true feelings. Poppy was enchanted all over again by the memory of the gentleness on his face as he turned to give her a soft, loving smile, looking at her in a way that no one else ever had.

“Your eyes really did pull me in… I could have gazed into them forever,” she said dreamily, absently stroking a thumb across his belly, pleased that he did not tense up the way he had earlier. “And when Gristle talked about having a nice smile, I kept thinking, ‘So do you, Branch. So do you.’”

“Thanks,” he whispered, sounding a little choked up. “I love your smile, too. There’s nothing I want more than to see you smile like that every day.”

“Thank you,” she whispered back. “I love you.”

“Love you, too, Poppy.”

-O-

The young troll queen beheld a vision. Softly muted hues of aquamarine and purple gradually resolved into the form of the one who made her smile with just his presence alone. There was something familiar about this scene, about gazing at the handsome sleeping troll who lay beside her in the pale morning light.

_I think I’ve had this dream before…_

In her dream, Branch was different than he acted in the real world, all smiles and laughter, silliness and contentment. True, he still retained his oddly wry, sarcastic sense of humor, but she couldn’t imagine him any other way, even in a dream. In fact, her subconscious had managed to create a Branch-in-love who was totally believable. He’d even asked her what the rules were for dating, after all!

Still, it was a wonderful dream. A dream where she had finally found her lifelong companion, even if the idea of him accepting and returning her rather abrupt declaration of love was a little unrealistic. Dream-Branch was someone who cared deeply for her, someone who treasured her not just as his queen, but as his best friend. No, as his true love. And despite them being different on the surface, the troll in front of her shared her most important core values, which bound them together more strongly than a troll’s hair.

The part where he had held back from kissing her had rung true, though. She sighed sadly. Would he ever fall in love with her in real life? Would he ever take her hand and look into her eyes, so lost in hers that he forgot to be cautious? Would he ever let her kiss him and touch him and love him, now that she’d realized how she felt about him? Now that she wanted him to be hers?

_Come on, Poppy. Get it together._ Well, now that she finally understood her own feelings, maybe it was time to share them. She’d never know what he might say in real life if she didn’t try. She just had to make sure she remembered her dream when she woke up.

Feeling somewhat more content now that she had a positive course of action, the pink troll relaxed, letting her gaze drift fondly over the image of her beloved. He lay on his side facing her, giving her a nice view of his muscular shoulders and part of his chest where it showed above the covers. One hand was wedged securely under his chin, keeping his mouth neatly closed, and the other rested on the bed between them. She admired the strong, clean lines of his arms, down to his large, capable-looking hands, remembering their delicate touch on her chin as he turned her head so he could look into her eyes… 

Her stomach fluttered, and she turned her attention to his face. The aquamarine troll looked sublimely at ease, in a way he so rarely did in the waking world. His smooth dark purple eyebrows were relaxed, the light care lines at the corners of his eyes finely etched into his skin in a way that only added to his handsomeness.

Some distance away, she heard a bird begin to sing, and Branch’s ear twitched, reminding her of the previous night’s hilarity. She chuckled quietly, feeling her sore stomach muscles pull enough to make her desist, still smiling.

Last night’s hilarity? Sore stomach? Abruptly Poppy was fully awake, gaping at the troll in bed with her. _He’s really here? It wasn’t a dream? Everything that happened – confessing our love to each other, scrapbooking with him, flirting with him…_ She swallowed. _Touching him… All that was real?_

__Surprise gave way to wonder as the gentle morning light filtering through the dome of her pod softly illuminated his quiescent face. _Branch loves me. Somehow, despite all his defenses, the one thing he let inside…was me._

__Suddenly overcome by a burst of love so powerful she was trembling, she wrapped her arms around her body to keep from throwing herself onto him. _Hold it together, Poppy. You promised him. You promised to wait until our date._

She opened her eyes, staring at him, so temptingly close. _But it’s two days from now! I’m sure he’ll reconsider, now that he’s had a chance to sleep on it and get used to the idea that we’re dating._

__Slowly, she began to lean toward him. _Just a little peck, to say good morning? He won’t mind. I bet he’ll even be glad I made the first move. He was yesterday._

__Just before her nose brushed his, she stopped, her eyes flicking back and forth between his peacefully sleeping face to his lips, half-buried against the back of his hand. _Seriously, who sleeps like that? Was he trying to keep me from kissing him?_

The pink troll tried to pretend she was annoyed with him, but she knew it was really herself she was upset with. She sighed and drew back. _For whatever strange reason, he asked me to wait. I can’t break his trust. Not now._

She slid off the bed and began to walk to the bathroom to get ready for the festival. _Maybe he’s testing me… Wait, what’s that?_

__She stopped by the low table, where a single scrapbook page that she did not recognize had been laid out. _He must have gotten up during the night to make this._ She picked it up to study it. It was similar to the last picture in the scrapbook she had created just after their original adventure in Bergentown.

But in this version, instead of a hug, atop a lofty mushroom an aquamarine troll shared a kiss with a pink troll, their hair lovingly entwined. At the base of the mushroom were all their friends, including Bridget, Gristle and some other bergens, all surrounded by a crowd of happy trolls.

But what caught her eye and made her smile was the small group in the forefront: several tiny trollings whose colors were reminiscent of her own and those of a very special troll in her life. And she couldn’t wait to see what the future would hold for them all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quote from Branch in the Trolls: The Beat Goes On, episode “Sorry Not Sorry”:
> 
>  
>
>> The last thing I want is for you to be upset with me.
>> 
>> I lost sight of what mattered. 
>> 
>> And you are the morning sun bringing light to my eyes.
>> 
>> Each moment we’re apart, I feel like I’m missing a piece of myself.
> 
>   
> Even though he’s actually giving these lines to Gristle to say to Bridget, I have the feeling he’s imagining himself speaking to Poppy, just as he was in the movie when he recited one of his Poppy poems for Bridget to say to Gristle.
> 
> Now, this is the second time we’ve seen Branch compare the subject of his poem to the sun, which is why I thought he might call Poppy his “Sunshine”. 
> 
> Also, in “You’re the Hug for Me” he says, “There are certain clouds [trolls] who actually make your day brighter and your step lighter, and that’s what you do for me.”
> 
> So it seems to be a running theme. Poppy is literally the light of his life. And he’s such a sweetheart when he’s wearing his heart on his sleeve!


	5. I Wonder

I awoke to the savory smell of pancakes. _Poppy must have broken into my bunker yet again to rope me into another one of her crazy plans. She must be in a real hurry if she’s cooking me breakfast. Or she thinks it’ll keep me from complaining if she sweetens the deal._

__I took a deep, appreciative breath. _Mmm…chocolate chip and cinnamon_. I felt a faint smile grow. _Well, maybe I won’t complain_ too _much._

__I felt hunger stirring in my belly, but I wasn’t quite ready to open my eyes yet. I was too relaxed. It felt like I’d slept really well last night, for some reason. In fact, I felt really good today, calm and centered and ready to take part in whatever over-the-top caper Poppy had in mind. Maybe, although I would never admit it, I was even looking forward to it.

Awake enough to be curious, I stretched my arms above my head and yawned. My stomach was sure sore today. All that laughing last night had really-

I froze, my mouth still open. 

_Last night?_

__My eyes popped open. Pink walls. Familiar wall décor. I was in Poppy’s pod! I’d slept in her bed! And last night Poppy and I had…

_Wow._ I rolled onto my back, staring up at the dimly colorful hair-dome. _So it wasn’t a dream. Poppy’s in love with me. She’s my girl, and I’m her guy._

I could still hardly believe it, but I sure wasn’t going to deny it!

Judging by the early morning sun brightening the pod and the soft _shhhh_ of leaves rustling in the light breeze, it was going to be a beautiful day. _I just wish we didn’t have a festival today. Waiting for our first date is going to be torture. Maybe I could talk Poppy into taking the day off – the other trolls can get along without her for one day, can’t they?_

Guilt began almost immediately to gnaw at the back of my mind, and I sighed. _No, Branch. Duty calls._

Besides, I couldn’t disappoint Poppy; she had specifically said that she found my dependability attractive. _Funny, really. I would have thought she’d like spontaneity better._

Then again, considering how the last guy she’d liked had betrayed the entire village, I could see why she’d be drawn to someone she felt she could rely on. 

She really did take her duty as queen seriously. She was different from the other trolls, in that regard. _Poppy was right. We do have that in common, at least._

Well then, speaking of duty, I had a Beadfest to monitor. I made a move to push back the covers and then paused as I noticed something. 

My mind wasn’t the only thing that was awake.

_…Maybe I’ll hold off on getting up right now. I could use the time to think, anyway._ I lay back and interlocked my fingers behind my head, gazing up at the hair-dome above me as it gradually brightened from pale pink to vibrant magenta. 

I was still getting used to the way my body responded whenever I thought about Poppy, well, romantically. _I’m probably making too big a deal out of it, but it’s not like I’ve ever done anything like this before. I’ve never had a girlfriend, or been in a relationship._

During puberty, having reactions like this to attractive trolls, usually females, had upset me at first – anything out of my control always did – but I learned to deal with it. To hide it, or prevent it by deliberately thinking of other things, especially things that angered or scared me. 

Still, it happened often enough upon awakening that eventually I figured out a way to relieve the pressure, so to speak, and I even grew to like the feeling. It was one of the few, brief pleasures I allowed myself, in the privacy of my bunker. And as embarrassing as it is to admit it, it’s been happening more often ever since I got my colors back.

I was aware that like all animals except bergens, trolls only procreate for a few weeks, twice a year, but that didn’t mean that couples in love couldn’t be intimate with each another the rest of the year. _Or so I’ve read, anyway._

And what about Poppy? I’d never seen her behave the way she had yesterday. As far as I knew, she’d never shown that kind of interest in any other troll, not even that traitor she’d had such a crush on. But she’d flat-out told me she thought I was handsome, and that she wanted to learn to play bedroom games with me. 

_This is all happening so fast._ Sure, I might have been the one to mention them first, but I hadn’t even really meant to. It had just popped out when it suddenly hit me that something that had once seemed to have zero chance of ever happening to me had actually become possible. 

In a way, it was like when our friend Bridget realized that happiness for bergens wasn’t just some imaginary ideal; it was real, and very much within their grasp if only the bergens could change their mindset on the whole idea. I smiled wryly. _I can sympathize with them._ After all, despite being surrounded by countless examples of happiness while growing up, I had stubbornly held on to my pessimistic attitude for twenty years. 

I wondered what Poppy thought of the notion that she was in love with the most emotionally compromised troll in the entire village.

I’d known Poppy and I had had a bond between us ever since the bergen incident - a strong bond, an unbreakable bond - but up to that point, I’d thought friendship was what Poppy wanted from me, so I’d vowed to be the best friend ever. 

That being said, I’d also hoped that one day she would look at me with the same passion I felt for her, and that although I was by no means in bad shape, it couldn’t hurt to get myself in _better_ shape.

Then when Poppy had touched me yesterday, she’d made me react a lot more strongly than I would have guessed, and that, quite frankly, had made me nervous more than anything else. I liked things better when I had some idea of what to expect from people, and yesterday Poppy had definitely changed the game.

Being as kind and pretty and dynamic as she was, I’d assumed that Poppy had probably had some experience with boys. Who wouldn’t want to kiss her, after all? But she’d said last night that she’d never had a boyfriend, because as the princess, she’d had to be careful whom she chose. That had surprised me.

She’d also seemed genuinely surprised by her own attraction to me. _I honestly find it hard to imagine that she’s never wanted to be with another troll before, but apparently, she hasn’t. Or more likely, she’s never allowed herself to think along those lines._ I never realized that being a member of the ruling family could actually limit your life choices. 

So if Poppy saw me sprouting right now she’d…honestly, I had no idea how she’d react. Before yesterday, I’d have guessed she might react with embarrassment, or maybe friendly understanding. She’s had sleepovers with our male friends, after all - it’s probably nothing new to her. Only glitter trolls keep everything inside, after all.

But now, would she be embarrassed or understanding? Or would she be more, well, amorous?

I sighed. No matter how she reacted, it was something I really didn’t want to deal with right now. I wanted time to process everything that had happened yesterday. That was part of the reason I’d asked her to wait to kiss me.

When she’d run her hands over my skin, all wet and silky-smooth from the bubble bath, it had surprised me, but it had also felt good. Gentle and soothing at first, but then her hands had strayed to my backside, and I’d started to get excited. Everywhere she stroked left a trail of fire behind. I couldn’t think; couldn’t focus on anything except her caress and how it made me feel. 

It had felt so good that I’d let it go on for longer than I should have, but by then I was so sure she was doing it on purpose. This was it - the sign I’d been waiting for. Finally, after so long, Poppy was letting me know that she wanted to move to the next stage in our relationship, to go from best friends to lovers.

But she didn’t speak, and so when I began to sprout I automatically hid my condition from her; a lifetime of caution splashing over me like ice water, damping my earlier heat. Then things got really awkward, as Poppy seemed confused, like she had no idea what she was doing to me.

Then I was mortified that I’d reacted inappropriately to her innocent touch, and I was so close to running away, ready to hide forever in my bunker. Thankfully, Poppy stopped me, and we talked it out. It turned out that she’d been the one sending what had turned out to be some pretty clear signals of her true intentions, even if they were intentions she hadn’t consciously realized she’d had until that moment. 

But in true Poppy fashion, it hadn’t taken her long to roll with it, adapting to the change between us far more easily than I was. 

It was a talent of hers, of most trolls, really, something I still struggled with sometimes. Thankfully, now that I had her and my friends to guide me, I was finding it easier to be more open to change, and I loved them for it.

I wondered how my friends would react to the news. Maybe I should ask them for advice on planning my date with Poppy? They’d all known her longer than I had, after all.

Had any of them suspected that I was in love with Poppy, or that she was falling for me? I doubted it – she’d sure fooled me. I chuckled noiselessly. She’d fooled herself, too, apparently, only realizing her feelings for me after having a dream. A dream that, judging by her blush, I absolutely _had_ to hear the details of.

I put a hand over my mouth, covering a bashful smile as a few of my own dreams came back to me. Dreams where I’d thrown caution to the wind and offered myself to her, winning over the love of my life with my golden voice and some really sweet dance moves. My rosy queen was so beautiful, and so full of life that I couldn’t help but dream about kisses and sweet-scented soft skin, her long-lashed eyes gazing at me with a playful eagerness that I was happy to oblige. The look that I’d so longed to see on her face. 

The same look that she had given me yesterday.

_Now if only I could shake off the nerves._ I clenched my teeth. I didn’t want to make her feel rejected like I had last night, without even realizing it. I knew how bad that felt, and she didn’t deserve it. I’m sure that any other troll would probably have joined her in bed without a thought, would probably even have gone on to- 

_Stop it, Branch! Don’t even go there._ Poppy had once pointed out that I had a tendency to get caught in a downward spiral of negative thoughts, all mixed up with regret, guilt and shame. The trick, she’d said, was to catch it happening and replace the bad thoughts with positive ones. It had taken a while, but I was slowly getting better at it. 

_You’re happy now, remember? And Poppy chose_ you _all on her own, didn’t she? Somehow, you’ve managed to make yourself special to her. Remember that, Branch. Poppy loves you._

__Feeling better, I noticed the pod was much brighter now. _The sun must be nearly up._ I let my gaze travel idly around the room, jerking to a stop as I saw the table across the room. I squeezed my eyes shut, reminded of my thoughts during the night and wondering nervously how Poppy had reacted when she saw the new scrapbook page I’d assembled by the glimmering light of my hair.

-O-

I’d been awakened by a call of nature, only to find myself in a dimly-lit, vaguely familiar room with someone clinging to me, her sweet, sugary scent all around me. The entire previous evening swirled around in my head as I got up, careful not to wake her. I listened to the nightly chorus of forest creatures (one was seriously off-key) as I made my way to the bathroom. 

I was sharing Poppy’s bed because she’d finally made a move and I’d ended up declaring my love to her again. Only this time, she’d said it back.

Why hadn’t I kissed her when she offered? I didn’t really know. I hadn’t just been playing coy when I’d told her I wanted to save our first kiss for somewhere more romantic (although I’d discovered that I enjoyed it). And I did want time to plan the perfect date, but that wasn’t the whole truth. It was more complicated than that. 

There was the old fear of letting someone get close, in case I lost them as I’d lost my family, although that wasn’t as strong as it used to be. I was no longer a helpless trolling, and the major threat, the bergens, had been fairly well-mitigated by Poppy. 

I was also just plain not used to receiving affection from other trolls. Hug Time didn’t really count – any troll would hug me if I was in the area when their bracelet went off, whether they cared about me or not. But having the object of my affection actually returning my interest had me panicking on some level. It was all just too much, too fast, stirring up the old desire to escape. 

But I wasn’t going to give up. I didn’t care how nervous I got, if Poppy wanted me, then I would willingly give myself to her for as long as she wanted.

I just hoped she truly did want me. I believed her when she said she loved me, but Poppy, well, she had a tendency to gravitate toward those who needed her. I’d always thought that was why she kept reaching out to me, no matter how often I rejected her. And she was sure right; I _had_ needed her. It had only taken two days in her presence to brighten colors dulled for twenty years. But could being needed be enough for her?

_Am I the right person for her? Can I give her whatever_ she _needs, make her happy for the rest of her life?_

__I bit my lip as another worry I’d been trying to ignore shoved its way to the forefront of my mind. Poppy might think she was in love with me right now, but it might not last. After all, she’d liked Creek, too. Of course, I wasn’t planning to do anything that might put the village in danger, but there were probably lots of things that could potentially make her stop loving me.

No. I had to stop thinking negatively. _Look at Poppy; she’s not worried about us. I should just take my cue from her._

__Maybe I should re-read the books on relationships in my personal library at home. Handwritten books, not scrapbooks; words of wisdom passed down through my family for decades, with cool, nerdy titles like _Assembling a Successful Relationship._

I also needed some basic supplies. I had a feeling that I was going to be a frequent visitor at Poppy’s place from now on.

As I headed back to bed, I realized that my drowsiness had abated. I didn’t want to spend another sleepless night lying in bed, ruminating. _I need to do something that will take my mind off all this for a while._ Then I saw the scrapbooks we had made still there on the table, along with leftover scrapbooking materials. 

_A way to bond with others._

I decided to make one last page. 

When I was through, I left the page where she would be sure to see it, wondering how she would respond to its subtle question. _Testing the waters to see if this relationship is just temporary…_

While I was gone, Poppy had rolled over with her back facing my side of the bed. For just a moment I felt shut out, but then I remembered how upset she’d been when she’d thought I didn’t want to cuddle with her, and felt a rush of warmth go through me. Suddenly I wanted to wrap myself around her, holding her close with my arms and my legs and my hair, but I also didn’t want to wake her. As an insomniac, I knew how important sleep was. But it made me feel good to know that if I did, she would welcome my touch. 

I carefully lay down, turning onto my side so I could gaze at her while I waited to feel sleepy again. It might be sooner than I was used to; judging by how quickly I’d fallen asleep earlier this evening, cuddling seemed to agree with me. Even just listening to her peaceful, deep breathing was relaxing. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d slept so close to someone, if I didn’t count the night of our journey to rescue our friends, which had not in the least been relaxing. 

But things felt different to me now, on some deep, fundamental level. Although episodes of nightmares and insomnia had become less frequent since I regained my true colors, they weren’t completely gone. I wondered how sharing a bed with Poppy would affect them.

-O-

I never noticed when I drifted off, but as I lay there with a clear mind after what felt like a good night’s sleep behind me, I mulled over my nocturnal contemplations. 

I knew I had one more reason for holding back.

Besides wanting some time to get used to the idea myself, I wanted Poppy to have time to change her mind before we got in too deep. I might have been inexperienced with relationships, but I knew enough to understand that Poppy’s feelings for me might still change. It was far too late for me, of course; I was hair-over-heels in love with her and had been for a long time.

_Think optimistically._ _Poppy noticed me. Poppy chose me. Poppy loves me._ I finally had the chance I’d always wanted, the chance to truly show her how I felt about her, to be the romantic and shower her with my love.

_Poppy wants me._

__Although, assuming Poppy’s interest in me doesn’t wane after she’s really gotten to know me, and that she doesn’t fall in love with someone else, and that she really is serious about us becoming a committed couple, I still wasn’t sure we should just leap straight into a physical relationship. _If that’s what she had in mind last night, with her sudden interest in wanting to kiss me._

__Not that I was complaining about that, but considering how easily Poppy seemed to accept the idea of us dating, she might not have stopped with just kissing. I didn’t know what she wanted; maybe she didn’t either. She’d told me she’s never dated before, so this was new ground for both of us. That meant that someone had to be the sensible one, the one who considered the consequences. Didn’t it?

_Or is this one of those situations where you’re supposed to trust in each other and take a leap of faith? Argh, what do I do? I wish I had my books with me..._

I twisted my hands in my hair, suppressing a groan so Poppy wouldn’t realize I was awake yet. _I really need to talk to someone. I’m not sure how helpful our friends will be; none of them are in relationships, either._ I sighed. _Maybe I’ll see someone at the festival today who I feel like I can talk to._

Aaannd this line of thought really isn’t helping your current situation, is it? It’s only fanning the fire, so to speak. Poppy’s probably going to call you any minute, and then what are you going to do?

__Reluctantly I shifted mental gears, focusing on the Beadfest and other matters that had been on my agenda for this week, trying to ignore the fact that all of my plans were probably about to change. Possibly for life.

A while later I sat up when I heard the _clack_ of utensils and well-filled dishes on wood. I looked over to see that Poppy had moved everything that had been on the table to the carpet, including my latest work. Her bright hair was so messy it looked like a bramble bush, and I stifled the urge to smirk.

“Good morning, Branch. Did you sleep well?”

“Good morning,” I replied. “And yes I did, actually, thanks for asking.”

“I see someone had a busy night.” Her cheerful tone didn’t give me a clue about how she might feel about the future I’d hinted at, but at least she didn’t sound upset. Was it possible she hadn’t noticed the trollings’ colors matched ours?

I studied her face as I got up and headed toward her, saying in a pseudo-amiable tone, “You’d be surprised what pops into your head in the middle of the night. I wanted to follow your example and predict a happy future.”

“Well, I can see you’re an apt pupil.” She grinned at me, and held out her arms. “Come here, you.”

My heart thrilled as we wrapped our arms around each other, both enjoying the hug and yet hoping it wouldn’t lead to the recurrence of the problem I didn’t want to have to deal with right now. The borrowed shorts I wore were made of a lighter type of felt than my own, and of course, I had no underwear on underneath. Yet another thing I needed to retrieve from my bunker.

I almost asked about the scrapbook page, but decided to keep my mouth shut for now. I was enjoying the hug too much to risk making things awkward.

As we parted, Poppy looked at me and giggled. 

Her humor was contagious, and I found myself smiling. “What’s so funny?”

She looked over my head as she said, “Branch, I hope you don’t mind me saying this, but you look totally adorable right now.”

My eyes turned upward to see a matching bramble bush on my own head. I had the simultaneous urge to blush and grin idiotically at her. It felt oddly good to be sharing an experience with her, even something as mundane as having matching bed-heads.

“Um, thanks,” I answered self-consciously. “Uh, so do you.”

“Why, thank you, Branch,” she said with bashful pleasure, tucking her hands behind her and swinging from side to side. “You’re so sweet.”

I didn’t know what to say to that, so after an awkward pause I asked at random, “So, uh, do you have any coffee?”

“Oh sorry, I don’t, Branch. I’m a morning person. I usually only drink it when I need to stay awake to finish up one of my ‘crazy plans’.” She grinned at me. “But I can go get some if you really need it.”

“No, that’s all right. I’m not that sleepy.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I slept well,” I repeated. “Really well, in fact.”

Just then Poppy walked past me and opened the door, filling her pod with brilliant sunlight. With the rising sun behind her she turned to face me, a fairy sprite with a glorious golden corona, this time visible.

I felt my limbs turn to jelly. “Must be the company,” I murmured dreamily, so lost in love I hardly knew what I was doing.

Something of what I felt must have shown on my face, and her smile gradually changed into a look I could only describe as yearning. “You know something, Branch?” she said softly. “This is the first time I wish I didn’t have to go to a festival.”

That was the highest compliment she could give me. “Sorry…but not sorry. You know, I was actually thinking the same thing. I guess great minds think alike.” I smiled lovingly at her, and she smiled back. “But I’m actually looking forward to going, believe it or not. I wonder what the other trolls will say when we tell them about us.”

An odd look came over Poppy’s face. If I didn’t know better, I’d say it was a frown; the thoughtful kind, anyway. We sat down and began to eat. I made sure to compliment her on the food, which really was delicious; the chocolate-cinnamon pancakes practically melted in my mouth. I felt slightly guilty over letting her cook while I lounged in bed, but I decided I’d do the dishes to make it up to her. 

Poppy kept glancing at me as if she wanted to say something, but was unusually silent throughout the meal, making me wonder if she was actually bothered by the page I’d done after all.

You know how things that make perfect sense in the middle of the night seem totally crazy by the light of day? 

Or not. Some of my best works – poems, inventions – came about because of 3AM inspiration. But middle-of-the-night inspiration had also resulted in some of my most disturbing works, like the manic carved and painted warnings about bergens in my front hall, and a lot of dark, tormented artwork, things I’d gotten rid of before I ever let any of my friends see it. Only Poppy had, once, and I remembered the uneasy look on her face as she took it all in.

Maybe I shouldn’t have done that page. She probably thought it was strange, or demanding, or something. I mean, we only became a couple last night. _What was I thinking?_

I finished quickly, long before she did, keeping my mouth full of food as an excuse to avoid talking. When I was done, I washed my plate and everything else I found in the sink, making the occasional lame comment to try to keep up the pretense that everything was fine. Poppy smiled and gave appropriate replies, but I could tell her mind was elsewhere.

Finally she finished chewing and set down her fork. “Branch, can I talk to you?”

With a heavy heart, I dried my hands on a towel and turned to see the serious look on her face. The bottom dropped out of my stomach.

“Oh, no. I knew it. You don’t want to be my girlfriend anymore.” I turned back to the sink, unable to bear the look of sympathetic rejection that I knew would be on her face. “I knew I shouldn’t have done that last page. It creeped you out, didn’t it?”

“Branch-”

I tried to recover my ground. “It’s just that I thought you’d like it. You’re always scrapbooking future plans, aren’t you?”

“Branch.”

Really panicking now, I asked desperately, “Or was it the trollings? I put too many of them on there, didn’t I?”

“Branch!”

Suddenly Poppy was hugging me from behind. I jumped, my hair flaring outward until I recovered control of it. And then we were enveloped in a soft magenta cocoon from shoulders to knees, its gentle pressure calming me as if I’d wrapped myself in my favorite warm blanket.

“Branch,” she said softly. “I loved the new page. Especially because you’re on the right track; you’re looking to the future, with all the hope in your heart. And I definitely don’t want to break up with you. I love you.”

Gradually I calmed down, my heartbeat steadying, and then picking up speed again for an entirely different reason. Her breath was warm and made my ear and the side of my neck all tingly. I closed my eyes and willingly let go, enjoying every single sensation she made me feel without even knowing it.

“Sorry for freaking out on you.”

“Oh, Branch.” Her hair loosened a little so her hand could rub my belly. It helped. I forgot about being upset and just focused on her warm hand as it slid gently across the borrowed tank top covering my sore stomach muscles. I relaxed into her, my ears drooping a little as she brought back the nighttime languor that was still near the surface, without coffee to dissolve it. 

“And I’m sorry for freaking you out,” she murmured. “I keep forgetting that you don’t always react like… well…”

“Like a normal troll?” I said evenly.

Her hand stopped moving and I imagined her wincing. I hated to rub her nose in it, but as much as Poppy liked to claim I’d made progress, I doubted my instinctive response to unexpected events would ever change. She had to realize that and accept it, before we both got too deeply involved to be able to break up and still keep our friendship without severely hurting one another. I would rather keep what we had now than spend the rest of our lives avoiding each other or feeling awkward around each other.

“Branch,” she said finally. “This _is_ normal, for you.”

That was all. No platitudes. No cheerful assertions that someday I’d fit in with everyone else.

A slow smile spread across my face as her acceptance thawed the icy shards of doubt in my heart. 

“Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the abrupt shift to Branch’s point of view. I decided there was more going on right now in his head that needed direct exposition, as Poppy had already more or less settled things in her mind. We’ll see more from her perspective later, though. 
> 
> I decided to use first-person perspective for Branch, and third-person for Poppy, partly to make it clear who was who, and partly because when I imagine a story told from Branch’s point of view, I keep hearing the trailer to the movie with the voiceover that starts: “My name is Branch, and I’m a troll.” It just seems natural to have him directly narrate what’s going on.
> 
> Did you notice how Branch has begun to change? Now that he’s in a relationship, he feels the need to connect with other people and ask their advice in addition to consulting his books. It’s the start of him truly becoming part of troll society, because he has a need to, rather than just to prove he is “normal” or because he is lonely.
> 
> I got seriously stuck for a while. It took me a long time – I’m talking weeks here – to decide what sort of attitude Branch and Poppy will have toward the idea of making love with each other. 
> 
> Finally, I decided that since what appeals to me most about the trolls’ culture are the ideals of tolerance, forgiveness, honesty about one’s feelings, encouragement, and positivity, and the general air of innocence and good fellowship in the way the trolls treat each other, that I’d give my best attempt to try to approach Branch and Poppy’s physical relationship with the same basic mentality.
> 
> That doesn’t mean Branch isn’t afraid, of course. He’s open to the idea because he knows it’s what trolls in love do, and thanks to Hug Time, he’s had some exposure to physical contact with other trolls. He’s also familiar with his own body’s reactions up to now, but when Poppy actually touches him, it’s still so new it scares him. 
> 
> Poppy is used to being touched by other trolls, so it’s natural for her to take the lead at first. But Branch is smart and curious and will undoubtedly catch up to her before long and become the dreamboat we all know he can be.
> 
> Look forward to future chapters, and please let me know if there’s something you’re interested in seeing addressed, okay?


	6. Silk and Velvet Secrets

Wrapped securely in Poppy’s silken embrace, I gently pressed my head against hers. She leaned into my back, resting her chin on my shoulder with her arms around me, and we stayed like that for a while, just enjoying the quiet time together. 

A light breeze from the open door made my hair flutter and noisily rustled the leaves on some nearby branches. I never wanted this moment to end, but eventually Poppy stirred. “We’d better get going,” she said reluctantly. “We’re late. I’m surprised none of our friends have been by to see what’s taking me so long.”

As she withdrew her warm hair from around me, the cool air both woke me up and made me feel a little bereft of her comfort, but I turned to ask her the question I’d been holding onto since she’d spoken so seriously earlier. “So what was it you wanted to talk to me about?”

“Well, when you mentioned how the other trolls will react when they hear that we’re together, it got me thinking.”

In a good mood now, I rolled my eyes and teased, “Uh-oh. Poppy’s been thinking; look out.”

She quirked an eyebrow, giving me a half-grin.

I chuckled and held up my hands placatingly. “Okay, okay, so what sort of crazy party plans are you cooking up now? I know: you want _two_ parties, right?” I held up a finger. “First, a warm-up party, where you let everyone know you have some important news.” I put up a second finger beside the first. “Then the trolls spend the time in between all hyped up with anticipation, until you finally tell them at the main party and we all dance until we drop?”

Poppy shook her head. “That’s not what I- Hey…” She beamed at me. “You know what, Branch, I like the way you think.”

“Hold on, could you say that again?”

She looked confused. “I…like the way you think?”

“Wow.” I gave her a completely non-sarcastic smile. “I think that’s the first time in my entire life that someone’s said that to me. And meant it, anyway.”

“Well, I’m sure it won’t be the last,” Poppy laughed. “But before that, I have a favor to ask.”

“What, you need more bugs for the party?” I had an idea. “Maybe glimmers - get that soft lighting to really set the romantic mood, you know?” 

“Another great idea, but no. I don’t want to throw a party.”

I froze. “Don’t want to-”

Alarmed, I put my hand on her forehead. “Poppy, are you feeling all right?”

“I’m fine, Branch.”

She wasn’t running a temperature. “Then, why…”

“What I meant was, I don’t want to throw a party _yet.”_

I could only stare at her, thoroughly confused. Poppy hesitated, then looked away and shifted her feet uncomfortably. “I know this is going to sound weird, but would you mind if we didn’t tell anyone we’re dating? I mean, we can if you really want to, but I’d really like it if no one knew about us yet.”

A shaft of pain stabbed me in the chest, and my legs went weak. How could she, after everything we’d shared? 

With no explanation, my brain started churning out theories. “Is this because I said I didn’t want to kiss you yet? Because I will, I’ll kiss you right now if that’s-”

“Branch, no.” She sounded sincere. “That’s not it.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Then is it…because you’re ashamed of being with the village outsider?”

Her eyes widened and she waved her hands rapidly in the air between us. “No, no, no, no; it’s nothing like that! Really! And you’re not an outsider!”

“Well, then… _why,_ Poppy?” My voice cracked, betraying the pain I could no longer keep from my face.

“I - I don’t know!” She gave me an anguished look, then buried her face in her hands. “I don’t understand it myself. I keep imagining us telling someone, and then that troll tells someone else, and it spreads and before you know it, we’re surrounded by a crowd of happy trolls, hugging us, congratulating us, singing to us…”

Her mental image eased my conviction that she was somehow still ashamed of me despite her denial, but it only increased my bewilderment. “So what’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing!”

I stared at her, then crossed my arms and eyed her. “Okay, Poppy, what’s going on?” I asked firmly.

She didn’t look up at me, only sighed dramatically. “Maybe there _is_ something wrong with me, Branch.”

Concerned, I took her hands in mine, gently pulling them from her face so I could study her carefully, then released them and blew out a quiet breath of relief. “Well, you’re not going gray, anyway. Come on, Poppy. Talk to me.”

“It’s just…” She twisted one hand inside the other. “I feel guilty, I think.”

“Guilty? You’re the happiest troll in the village. Do you even know what guilt feels like?”

She rolled her eyes at me. “Of course, Branch. Just because I’m happy doesn’t make me perfect.”

I opened my mouth to make a snarky comment, then grimaced. “Nah, too easy.”

“What?”

“Nothing. So why do you think you feel guilty?” I spread my hands out inquiringly.

She looked uncomfortable. “I just keep having this feeling that the other trolls won’t leave us alone so I can enjoy your company, and it makes me want to-” She cut herself off, apparently unable to continue.

“Go on,” I said encouragingly.

“To tell them not to bother us.” She turned big, remorseful eyes on me. “Branch, what kind of queen doesn’t want to be with her own people? Not even our friends? I don’t understand it. I mean, I love our friends. Why wouldn’t I want them to be with us to share our happiness?”

My tense shoulders relaxed as I realized that for once, I understood exactly how she felt. “Honestly, Poppy, it sounds pretty normal to me."

“Uh…no offense, Branch, but what do you know about romantic relationships?”

“More than you realize.” 

It was on the tip of my tongue to elaborate, but if I brought up my past crush now, we’d get off track, so I only said persuasively, “Didn’t I tell you once that I’m passionate about romance?”

“Well…I know you write poetry, but still…”

“Oh, I’ve done research.” _Reading romance stories and my family’s relationship books qualifies as research, doesn’t it?_

“But…trolls are supposed to share everything.”

“Is that what’s bothering you?” I gave her wild hair an affectionate tousle. “Poppy, romantic relationships aren’t exactly the same as a plate of cookies. You can’t give everyone an equal share.”

“But I’m the queen. I’m supposed to love every troll in the village equally.”

I looked down and shook my head, smiling at her sweet naiveté. “Poppy, do you love your father the same as any other troll?”

She faltered. “I…well, no. But he’s my dad, Branch. It’s natural for _him_ to be special to me.”

“How about your boyfriend, then?”

Her mouth opened, then closed as a thoughtful expression began to ease the stress on her face.

I reached for her hands and softened my gaze, looking into her beautiful rose-colored eyes. “It’s not that you don’t want to be with them, Sunshine. It’s just that you want to be with me more.” 

She went silent while she absorbed the idea. “So you really don’t mind if we keep us a secret for a while?”

“Poppy, remember who you’re talking to. If anyone understands the need for a little privacy, it’s me. And besides,” I winked at her, “I’d rather keep you all to myself, anyway.”

She blushed, looking down and putting both hands over her heart. “I shouldn’t say this, because I want you to love our people as much as I do, but Branch, is it okay for me to want you to love me just a little bit more than anyone else?” She let her hands drop and looked up at me wistfully. “Is it okay for me to be…well, selfish?”

I felt my eyes go round with wonder. _She’s serious._ My stomach began to flutter as I reached out to slide my fingers lightly over her cheek. “I think I can forgive you,” I said with a wry smile.

She put her hand over mine, pressing my palm against her cheek and smiling at me, but I didn’t like the shadow in her eyes. Unlike me, Poppy was a very open, sincere person. So I let go of her and added, “Just one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“Do we have to lie to keep it a secret? I know this might sound strange coming from a troll who basically hid from society in a secluded underground bunker for years, but if we conceal our true feelings and pretend we’re just friends, what happens when we finally tell everyone we’ve actually been dating? Won’t they feel like we deceived them?”

She snapped her fingers and pointed at me. “Ooo, good point, Branch, good point.” She lapsed into silence, then suggested, “Okay, how about this: we won’t pretend there’s nothing going on between us. We won’t hold back or hide how we feel, and if anyone asks us outright if we’re dating, we’ll say yes.”

“Ohh, I get it. So if no one asks…” I felt a grin grow on my face. “I like this plan. It might be kind of fun to see who picks up on it first. My guess is it’d be Biggie. Or Satin. They’re both romantics, just like me.”

Poppy gave me a tender look. “You’re such a sweetheart.”

While I was still blushing over that comment, she went on, “Well, I’d pick Smidge, or maybe Cooper. They don’t miss much, even if Cooper seems absent-minded at times.”

“Well, I guess we’ll see then, won’t we?”

For once, I had a feeling I was going to enjoy what came next.

-O-

_I’m glad I decided to talk this out with Branch. I feel so much better now!_

__Poppy clapped her hands and spun around, heading for the door. “All right, then! Let’s get this show on the road!”

Outside there was a sudden scuffling noise. Branch gave Poppy an alarmed look, then started for the door. Just then a large bug flew past, and the aquamarine troll’s suspicion visibly eased as he turned back to her. “Poppy, aren’t you forgetting something?”

The young queen turned curious eyes on Branch as he smirked and crossed his arms. “Unless the twins decided that ‘bramble bush’ is the hot new look, I’m going to need to borrow a hairbrush. And no offense, but there’s someone else here whose hair could use a little TLC.”

“Oh!” Poppy’s hands flew up to her wild locks, her pink cheeks growing even rosier. “I forgot. Thanks for reminding me. Hey, I know, let’s do each other’s hair!” 

“What?” The aquamarine troll took a step back, startled. “Uhhh, thanks, but I’m good.”

“Oh, come on, Branch. It’ll be fun. We always do this at sleepovers. It’s traditional.” She put a hand on his, and at her touch she felt his resolve weaken.

“Well…all right.” He held up his forefinger. “But just because we’re not hiding our new relationship status doesn’t mean we have to go out of our way to advertise it.”

“So, no matching hairstyles, then?” she said teasingly.

He crossed his arms, rolling his eyes and giving her the affectionate smile she could never get enough of. “Poppy.”

She let out a giggle, then rubbed her belly. “Ouch.”

Branch put a sympathetic hand on his own stomach. “You too, huh?”

“Yeah. Don’t let me forget about that tickle game, okay? Gotta keep the old chuckle factory in shape.”

“‘Chuckle factory’?”

“Yeah, that’s what my dad always calls it.”

He snorted. “Cute.”

Branch’s hair turned out to be a real pleasure to brush. Poppy had him sit on the plush carpet in front of her while she gently drew her brush through his handsome deep-purple mane. 

A troll’s hair could be a nightmare to untangle if they’d slept poorly, tossing and turning or having dreams that caused them to move their hair in their sleep, but despite the fact that he’d been up at some point during the night to create that beautiful new scrapbook page he’d obviously slept well, as he’d said. He’d sure looked deeply asleep to her when she woke up, and after his admission that he suffered from insomnia, she hadn’t had the heart to rouse him. 

The rest had clearly done him good. This morning his eyes were bright and alert, his stance ready yet relaxed; a far cry from the apprehensive troll who’d still been practicing his smile just months ago. 

She had to resist the urge to drop a kiss on the top of his head. _Be patient, Poppy. Soon you’ll get to kiss him all you want. Look on the bright side – he’s letting you touch him, right? So why not take every opportunity you can to help him get used to physical affection?_

 __Poppy hesitated, then set her brush aside and began to comb her fingers gently through her boyfriend’s long dark hair. At the first touch of her hands, his ears twitched and he stiffened, pulling in a quick breath that was almost a gasp. The pink troll bit her lip, then continued soothingly stroking his soft hair and using delicate skill to free the few knots she found.

His tight shoulders began to loosen and then, to her joy, Branch began to tilt his head, leaning into her caresses, his breathing deepening until it was nothing more than a series of long, contented sighs.

His beautiful thick hair was silk and velvet against her softly fuzzed fingers, inviting longer, deeper strokes and pulls. And Branch moved with her, his body becoming more fluid and pliant beneath her touch than she had ever suspected he knew how to be. Maybe he never had been, any more than she had known that she could so move another troll with just her hands alone.

It was a wonderful new kind of dance; one they were learning from each other, moment by moment. 

_How is it that everything I do with him feels so new, so different from doing the same things with my friends?_ She wondered what it would feel like when it was her turn. 

_And what about him? Has he never had anyone comb his hair before? I wonder if I could convince him to let me style it…_

She was pretty sure she knew the answer to that, but just to be sure she asked him, “You want it left free, right?” 

“Mm-hmm…”

He sounded…different. Poppy leaned over to check his expression. His eyes were closed and he wore a dreamy smile that made Poppy smile herself. “I guess you’ve never done this before, huh?”

“Nope,” he drawled lazily, popping the ‘p’. “Not since I was little, anyway. It feels…really…” He rolled his shoulders languidly. “Relaxing.”

“I’ll say. I’ve never _seen_ you so relaxed. You’re as loose as a palm frond.”

“Ohh, yeahhh,” he agreed amiably, in a tone so mellow she could practically hear his wide smile.

 _I’ve got to remember this the next time I want him to calm down_. The young queen suppressed a giggle, both tickled and touched at how completely he’d given himself to her, letting her see a side of him that he would show to no one else.

Poppy was so enjoying the pleasure she brought to her beautiful aquamarine boy that she continued combing for far longer than she needed to, marveling every so often at how responsive he was to her touch. 

Even his ears had gone soft, drooping a little and moving ever so slightly with every new stroke. They fascinated her. She kept catching herself reaching for them and had to keep diverting her hands back into his hair.

Finally, a little regretfully, she began using her brush to finish up, sliding his smooth silky locks between the brush and her other palm, lifting the strong purple strands high and proud. 

As if it didn’t want to let her go, his hair began to lengthen as her hands neared the ends, gently glimmering in soft, deep hues of amethyst and sapphire. Tiny iridescent sparkles began to appear with the passing of her brush, gently drifting into the air.

She stilled, enchanted all over again as memories of the first time her shining boy had delivered his heart into her hands welled up inside her. From that moment on Branch was always there in the back of her mind, a warm, comforting presence; the rock she leaned upon. The spark of passion she felt for him lay hidden within the cushion of their friendship, its tiny, determined flicker making her seek him out and pull him into her world, no matter how he complained at times. 

She’d felt the pull from him, too, stronger than ever before. Something about Branch had always attracted her, even when she was a child. He was so like and yet so unlike the other trolls, their joyful passion and love of life tightly focused and tempered with fierce determination. 

She remembered how he’d once told her he never relaxed, and that he liked being that way. Maybe he’d just been unable to imagine himself any different. Yet all along she had wanted to bring out his brighter side, the side she suspected he’d secretly always wanted to feel free to let out, the side she now loved so dearly. 

Her Branch. The one who laughed, who challenged her with a grin, the showoff, the one whose strange habits still managed to surprise her now and then. The Branch who was so adorably proud of himself when he raised his beautiful voice in song, making her heart sing, too. The Branch from her dream.

Mesmerized by his softly sparking locks, the pink troll gathered his shining dark hair in both hands and brought it toward her, burying her face in the profuse fluff and kissing the soft strands. Branch was still, his breathing deep and even, and she wondered if he even realized what was going on. Had he fallen asleep? 

Then she remembered her promise to him and reluctantly lifted her face from his hair. _Oh, well, it’s not like I actually kissed_ him, _right?_ She rolled her eyes, soothing the tiny twinge of guilt with a promise of her own: _I’ll be sure to make our first_ real _kiss just as romantic as he imagined._

 __With a silly, loving smile, Poppy resumed brushing the rest of his hair, which remained extended just enough past the neat, orderly length at which he normally kept it to add a gentle sway to his style. She wondered when he would notice.

“All done,” she said softly, not wanting to break the magic between them. He stirred but did not get up, moving slowly as if all his muscles had gone as soft as marshmallows.

Poppy noticed several long dark strands caught in her brush, and she tweaked them out to admire them. “You have a truly magnificent head of hair, Branch.”

“Thanks.” 

He sounded as if he might be blushing, and she grinned to herself. Maybe it was time for a little Branch appreciation. 

“It’s so soft, and yet so strong,” she purred. _Kind of like you. So tough on the outside, yet so sweet and sentimental inside._

“And it’s such a bold, striking color. I can see why it changed to that beautiful pure black when you were gray.” Few trolls had hair quite as dark as his, an elegant rich purple with blue undertones that made him stand out almost as much as when he’d had black hair. 

Idly she wrapped the strands around her pink fingers, appreciating the contrasting colors, and then paused as an idea blossomed. _Of course! That’s perfect! And I won’t say anything. I want it to be a surprise…_

Not really noticing what she was saying at first, Poppy commented, “You know, the only other troll I’ve ever seen with black hair was the time I- _oh!”_

Branch jumped at her yelp. “What?”

She didn’t answer, and he turned to look up at her in concern. “Poppy, what’s the matter?”

“I think Biggie might be the one after all.”

“The one what?”

“The one who figures out we’re dating.”

It took him a second to shift mental gears. “What makes you say that?”

“Well, I just remembered; one time I walked in on a-” She tittered uncomfortably. “Um, a reeaally awkward scene where Biggie was dressed up to look like you and Mister Dinkles was dressed up to look like me and-”

“What?” He scrambled to his feet, looking scandalized.

“I know, right? Totally blew my mind!”

Branch bowed his head, closing his eyes and pressing a finger between his eyebrows. “Do I even want to know what they were doing?”

“It looked like they were doing some kind of roleplay where you – I mean Biggie – was kneeling on the ground with his hand out, offering something to me - Mister Dinkles, I mean, or maybe asking me for something. I couldn’t tell – they both froze when I walked in and it was _super_ weird so I just got out of there as soon as I could.”

“Kneeling? Maybe they were just recreating what happened in the bergens’ pot?”

“Well, maybe… But Mister Dinkles was wearing glitter and Biggie looked sort of… I can’t describe it, but thinking back on it now, it almost seems like …maybe… Biggie ships us?”

Her boyfriend looked absolutely stunned. “And you’re _sure_ they were dressed up to look like us?” He squinted at her skeptically, the lines around his eyes deepening.

“Biggie was wearing a black wig with gray ears. Unless you’ve got a grumpy twin brother I don’t know about, he was definitely you.”

“Oookay.” He ran a hand down his face, and Poppy couldn’t hold back a chuckle even though her stomach protested. “My mind is officially blown.”

“Could be worse.” Poppy grinned cheerfully. “Mister Dinkles did make a cute me, even if he did need more glitter.”

Branch sighed. “Looks like maybe our little secret isn’t going to be a secret for long.”

She shrugged her shoulders. “All the more reason to enjoy it while it lasts. My turn!” The pink troll plopped herself down on the carpet in front of him and gave him an expectant look.

He hesitated, then moved toward her. She scrunched her eyes shut.

Nothing happened. She waited, an impatient frown beginning to take over her look of happy anticipation. Finally she opened one eye and then the other, glancing sideways at her freestanding mirror to see what was taking him so long.

Her boyfriend was standing with one arm folded across his ribs, cupping his other elbow while he held his chin between his thumb and forefinger. He was frowning thoughtfully as he contemplated the literally knotty problem before him.

There was nothing Branch enjoyed more than working on a problem; rectifying a tangle – physical or theoretical – and putting it right. In fact, if there was one thing they had in common, it was that neither of them could become aware of a problem without doing everything in their power to try to fix it.

Poppy felt herself melting, a fond look spreading over her face. How handsome he looked! How intelligent; how competent. How lucky she was that he was hers. How glad she was that she had never given up on him! Branch would never be the kind of troll who rushed into anything, but he was always worth waiting for.

The young queen noted his sky blue eyes moving rapidly with his thoughts and got the sense that he was looking at the problem from multiple angles at once. She watched, fascinated, and caught the ‘aha’ moment just before his face relaxed into a pleased smile.

She slammed her eyes closed just as he began to reach for her. He had not picked up her brush.

The moment he touched her, she knew this was going to be different. Physical contact with other trolls was generally within the familiar bounds of Hug Time, or limited to casual touches between friends. Despite having had her hair brushed by her friends and her father all her life, Poppy found herself responding to his hands in a way she never had to anyone else’s. If there had been any doubt in her mind that he was the one for her, it vanished the moment she felt the hesitant, tender brush of his fingertips against her skin. 

It was not the touch of a friend. This was the touch of a lover.

Her world went small and close. Nothing existed except him as he gently slid his fingers across her cheeks into her hair, pressing deeply through the soft fibers to make contact with her head. Slowly he swirled his fingers in some mysterious pattern that must have made sense to him, but she was too busy enjoying the sensation to bother to focus.

Everywhere his fingers passed, her skin awoke, singing in a way that made her roll her head and moan to match the song.

Instantly his touch vanished. “I’m sorry; did I hurt you?”

It took her a moment to process his words. She turned to see him standing with his ears and hair pressed back, shoulders hunched, his fists pressed against his ribs and a deeply anxious look on his face.

“‘Hurt me’? Branch, that feels _amazing!”_

His shoulders dropped as the lines around his eyes smoothed. “Really?”

“Yes!” she said enthusiastically. “Whatever it is you’re doing, Branch, keep it up!”

His gaze shifted to the side and then back to her, his brow furrowing in confusion. “Uh, I’m just locating and isolating the worst of the tangles, but-” he shrugged, “Okay.” 

He still looked a little uncertain, and she remembered again how new he was to being close to someone. She settled down and closed her eyes, waiting.

This time his touch was more confident as he gathered up all her hair at once, letting it flow outward across his palms in a silken river as he gently pulled it straighter. He repeated this several times as she tried to prevent her head from lolling too much in bliss, not wanting to weird him out.

Still, she enjoyed every stroke, every tingle that lingered and spread deliciously down her spine. “Hey, Branch?” she murmured.

“Yes?”

“Take your time, okay?”

The waft of air from his nose on her bare neck made her shiver in delight as he chuckled silently. “Sure, Poppy,” he replied, his tone rich with affectionate tolerance.

She felt herself easing back into the harmony that had grown between them earlier, leaning and swaying to the rhythm he set, a silly, languid smile on her face. Every glide of his fingers through her hair was a caress, soothing and exciting all at once. 

Then his hands were joined by a new sensation; slender cool threads sliding smoothly through her own, lifting and testing, delicately tweaking at troublesome spots. He was using his own hair to comb hers?

She opened her eyes to check the mirror and was instantly captivated by the sight of him behind her, so close, so intimately close, his hands holding her head with gentle, steady pressure as slender ribbons of deep purple intertwined with bright magenta like a beautiful, intricate puzzle. 

She felt a rush of love for her wonderful Branch, quietly focused on his task now with no sign of nervousness or discomfort. Occasionally his brow would furrow and his lips twitch when he ran into a knot. A few times she caught a hint of tension on his face and realized that he had managed to tangle his own hair with hers, but some careful work with his fingers and the rest of his hair would soon have him free again, his expression easing back into peaceful contemplation.

The young queen closed her eyes and gave herself over to his clever hands. As the last of the tangles were gently teased apart, his warm palms began to run over her head and neck, tenderly smoothing and caressing as her breathing deepened in response.

She began to watch the mirror again as he started collecting her hair into a topknot, his still slightly-puffy morning face a beloved study of concentration and caring. She let her eyes travel admiringly over his handsome features, feeling an odd desire to run her fingertips over his eyelids, to trace the care lines at the corners of his eyes, and touch his smile as his lips gently curved upward. 

She was so absorbed in observing him that she actually jumped when he spoke.

“Poppy, do you have a hair band?”

“What? Oh, yes. Over there.” She pointed to a small bowl in one of her wall niches, and he sent out a stream of purple to pluck one from its home.

He took up her brush then, and she closed her eyes again to enjoy the final few moments of his hands sweeping and gliding across her skin, alternating with the tingly scratch of soft bristles. He tied the topknot with her hair band and then his hands left her. She missed them instantly.

“Does it look okay?”

She opened her eyes to see him eyeing her topknot critically and turned to check the mirror. “Yes, it looks fine.”

“Okay. Oh, sorry; I should have asked what you wanted. I can change it if you-”

“No, I like it.” Something occurred to her. “Do _you_ like it?”

“Yeah, I do. It reminds me of…” He looked to the side, then met her eyes. “Well, everything that happened between us.”

“You mean when we went to Bergentown to rescue everyone.”

He nodded, then looked a little sheepish. “Also, I just think you look really cute like that.”

Poppy felt her face going red, and she put her hands to her cheeks. “Aww, Branch, thank you! That’s the first time you’ve ever said you thought I was cute.”

“It is?” Branch blinked, then grinned, his eyes twinkling. “Well then, _that_ is an oversight I must address immediately.”

The aquamarine troll’s expression turned inward, searching, and then he sank down onto one knee in front of her. He placed a hand over his heart, his face softening with such affection that she felt her own heart begin to flutter in her chest before he even spoke. His voice was a hushed murmur meant for her ears alone.

> _I tried to pretend I didn’t notice_
> 
> _I tried to pretend I didn’t care_
> 
> _I told myself it was impossible_
> 
> _But your face was always there_
> 
>   
> 
> 
> _My sparkle girl_
> 
>   
> 
> 
> His gaze was so clear and blue she felt as if she was seeing into the depths of his soul. 
> 
>   
> 
> 
> _Cheeks of rose_
> 
> _All flecked with stars_
> 
> _And skin like honeydew_
> 
>   
> 
> 
> _Dainty nose-_
> 
> He tapped her nose lightly, and she giggled. 
> 
> _And your warm arms_
> 
> __
> 
> __
> 
> _Your hair of sunrise hue_
> 
> __
> 
> __
> 
>   
> 
> 
> _A smile that glows_
> 
> _Lights up my heart_
> 
> _Your eyes so pure and true_
> 
>   
> 
> 
> She was gone, so lost in his words that she was hardly aware of anything else. 
> 
>   
> 
> 
> _All these things at which I stare_
> 
> _Sneaking secret glances_
> 
> _Make even someone such as me_
> 
> _Believe in taking chances_

__  
__  


____

It took her a moment to come back to herself, as he knelt there waiting for her response. She had to swallow to speak past the lump in her throat. “Branch, I... That was… You... The most…” She looked down, blushing. Had she ever been this tongue-tied? This smitten?

He gave her a pleased grin as he stood, offering a hand to help her up. She took it, clinging to his big warm hand as he lifted her up in more ways than one. Then she let go, looking down and pretending to brush carpet lint off her dress while she composed her thoughts.

“That was really, really beautiful, Branch. I loved it. Especially the part about me inspiring you to take chances.” She reached for his hands again, looking earnestly into his bright blue eyes. “I’ve never received a greater compliment. Thank you.”

For once he didn’t evade her gaze, openly letting her see the real Branch; the devoted troll who loved her enough to follow her anywhere, who believed in her enough to change the fundamental way he saw the world, even when it defied everything he’d ever accepted as truth.

It took a lot of courage to take that leap of faith, and she would do her very best not to let him down.

Her true-blue friend, her trusty companion. 

Her Branch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! That’s the first time I’ve tried to write a poem that wasn’t for school. How’d I do?
> 
> Being in love is changing not only Branch but Poppy as well. For the first time, she wants something that will seriously affect how much time and attention she can devote to doing her job as queen, and she’s trying to figure out a way to balance that, thus her request that Branch keep quiet about their relationship for now. 
> 
> Also, she’s noticing Branch physically more and more now. Plus there’s another source of conflict I’ve been thinking about that we’ll see more of in coming chapters.
> 
> The whole “relaxed as a palm frond” is a reference to the season 4 Trolls: The Beat Goes On episode “Branch Bum” (a play on the idea of a “beach bum” - someone who hangs out at the beach all day long instead of working at a job), where he finally gets a well-deserved chance to completely relax. It’s one of my favorites!
> 
> I also reference a (hilarious) official Dreamworks Trolls short on Youtube called “Dress-up” where Biggie and Mister Dinkles really do act out a scene as Branch and Poppy.
> 
> And yes, I’m going to talk a lot more about Poppy’s idea, and about Branch’s past, including a crush he once had many years ago…


	7. Beadfest

I let myself get lost in the depths of my girl’s eyes, allowing my face to relax into the type of tender, loving expression I’d never dared show her before. My spirits were soaring. I hadn’t felt this good since I’d first gotten my colors back. 

For the first time, Poppy had been the disconcerted one, the one who acted all shy and flustered. Flustered because of me, and my words. Flustered because of how strongly she felt about me. When I’d shared one of the poems I’d written, she’d looked entranced. Her eyes had gone big and warm and soft, her head tilted, a goofy smile on her lips. It was the first real sign I’d had that she might be just as in love with me as I was with her.

I waited for her to say something, but she seemed to be content merely to stand there, holding my hands and gazing dreamily into my eyes. It was nice, but a little unsettling. I wasn’t used to such open adoration.

Finally I cleared my throat. “Uh, Poppy?” I waved a cautious hand in front of her face. “Not that I don’t appreciate the admiration – because I do – but we do have commitments today.”

“Hm? You want us to commit? Okay…”

“What?” I gave her a startled look. _Did I hear her right?_

She jumped, her eyes wide. “Oh, uh, I mean, okay, you’re right. We have to get going to the – to the-”

“The Beadfest?”

“Right, right.”

Now both of us were flustered.

Poppy began to head for the door, then stopped, snapping her fingers. “What did I need to remember to do?”

“Do?”

“Before we left. There was something…”

As she turned to look around her pod, I put my hands on my hips and shook my head in amusement. _Wow. She’s completely off her game. I’ve got to remember this the next time I try to talk her out of something._

__“Maybe you need to brush your teeth? Or use the bathroom?” I suggested helpfully. “You know, ‘go before you go’?”

“No, I already… Oh, I’ve got it. Your flashbugs. Since we won’t be needing them until this evening, we’d better give them some food and water now.”

“No, they have enough,” I replied. It had been an easy problem to solve, with a little mechanical tinkering.

“But won’t they have eaten it all by now?”

“No, I installed an automatic feeder that works like the Hug Time bracelets. Every hour it releases a small quantity of food and water, to mimic conditions in the forest.”

Poppy beamed at me. “Clever _and_ thoughtful; that’s my guy.”

Would I ever get used to so much praise? _I hope not._

I rubbed my elbow and gave my girl what was probably a bashful smile, and the wattage of her smile increased by at least a factor of six. There’s a reason I call her Sunshine.

“By the way, do you have a spare toothbrush?” I asked her. “I somehow neglected to bring one on this totally unexpected but completely welcome detour to my usual routine.” I grinned at her to share my good humor.

“Sure, I always keep a few extras. I have-”

“-a lot of sleepovers.’” I said with her, and we both laughed.

-O-

While I was in the bathroom, I welcomed the time to think. 

I suppose I shouldn’t have been so surprised at her comment about commitment. After all, I’m not the only one who likes to plan for the future. Maybe I even got her thinking along those lines with that last scrapbook page, the one with the trollings. 

Besides, when Poppy commits to something, she gives it her all. While that often leads to a lot of headaches for me, it’s also one of the things I love most about her. _Although in this case it means that if our relationship fails, it’ll probably be my fault._

I shook my head and glared at myself in the mirror, lightly slapping my cheeks. _Focus on the positives, Branch._

__Well, so far things were going great, much better than I’d ever imagined. I was obviously doing _something_ right. I just had to keep it up. What had my relationship book said? ‘Make eye contact, be a good listener, and don’t try to solve all her problems.’ __

Huh. I’m not too sure about that last one. After all, I’m an excellent problem-solver, and Poppy’s always asking me for help. Unless she’s purposely engineering problems for me to solve to help boost my morale or something. I wouldn’t put it past her.

__I grinned wryly. _All right. Time to head out. You can do this, Branch._

__I stopped to pick up the card Poppy had given me and the discarded pile of clothes I’d left on the floor after I’d joined Poppy in her bed last night and tucked them into my hair. I’d give them a good washing later. As I joined Poppy by the open door, a brisk, fresh breeze caused the dust motes in the sunbeam by the door to dance and sparkle. I heard the echo of a sweet, cheerful song in my head. ‘Lookin’ up at a sunny sky, so shiny and blue, and there’s a butterfly…’ __

_Uh-uh. Nope. Not gonna have_ that _song in my head all day._ Poppy gave me a curious look as I shook the perky tune out of my head, then looked back, scanning the room for any forgotten task. My eye fell on the scrapbooks we’d made and the page I’d done last night of the two of us kissing, our hair entwined, with several tiny trollings with our colors playing nearby in the grass. I needed to add it to the end of my scrapbook, but not yet. I liked the way it looked, sitting there like a promise for our future, waiting for us to return.

I met Poppy’s eyes and saw that she felt the same reluctance to leave, to lose the closeness we’d shared. “Hey, Poppy.”

“Yes?”

“Let’s think of today as a sort of unofficial first date, okay?”

The sun’s illumination paled in the brilliance of the smile she gave me then. She held out her hand, I took it, and we walked out into the sunlight together. I made sure to close the door behind us, to keep that page’s promise safe.

-O-

As we stood on a thick branch high above the market square, the Beadfest lay spread out below us like a game board with brightly-colored booths and displays everywhere, in neat rows, or in clusters, or tucked into shady alcoves, with even more brightly-colored trolls skipping and sauntering among them. 

“Hm. Look at how many trolls are up already. Or are we late?”

“I guess we are,” Poppy agreed and squeezed my hand, beaming at me. “But I don’t regret a minute of it.”

I blushed, then took a quick look around, but no one seemed to be paying attention to us, so I returned the grin and gave her hand a playful squeeze back. Maybe no one would think anything was out of the ordinary about us being affectionate to one another – after all, we’d been friends for over six months now – but you never knew who was watching. _I know Poppy said we aren’t going to try to hide our relationship, but I guess old habits die hard. Keeping things private just comes naturally to me._

__“If it’s that late, I wonder where all our friends are?” I mused aloud.

Behind us I heard a muffled voice and a swish of wind but when I whipped my head around to look, no one was there. _Must have jumped into one of the nearby slides to ride down to the ground. Maybe we should, too…_ I smiled to myself. _I usually just use my hair to swing down, but on the slide I could put my arms around her…_

__“Hey, Branch, why don’t we use the slide today?” Poppy suggested.

Surprised, I turned to look down at her. She squeezed my hand again, tilting her head and giving me a wink. 

My eyebrows rose and felt the corner of my mouth drop open. _Huh. Who knew she was such a flirt?_

__“Good idea,” I replied, deepening my tone to show I understood exactly what she was suggesting, and that I approved. Wholeheartedly. I gave her a sideways peek as we walked to the slide, loving this little game between us. A game only for two.

“You go first-” we both said at once.

“No, after you-” we said again, and laughed.

“We really are on the same page, aren’t we?” she asked, and I suppressed a smile.

“I insist. You’re the queen, so I should ride behind you so I can hold onto you and make sure nothing happens to you.”

She gave me a long look, then sighed dramatically. “Oh, well, if you’re going to _insist,_ then I guess I should oblige you.” 

She rolled her eyes as if she was simply putting up with yet another of my safety-related habits (that she still seemed to find so unreasonable) and sat down at the top of the slide. I stifled a laugh as I sat behind her with my legs outside hers and wrapped my arms snugly around her, leaning forward to press my cheek against hers. She reached up and touched my outer cheek, pressing her face lovingly against mine while her other hand stroked my arms and hands for a long, sweet moment, long enough to send tingles through me before she sat up a little straighter and pushed us off the edge.

All during the ride down I enjoyed the feel of her body moving against mine as we careened to and fro, leaning into the curves in perfect sync with each other, our hair meeting and merging into a plum-colored kite tail in the glorious rush of wind. I had to keep holding back the urge to laugh out loud, not only because I was afraid of attracting attention but because my stomach was still sore from yesterday’s laugh-fest and the ride was making it complain enough as it was. _But like Poppy said, I don’t regret a minute of it._

When we slid to a stop at the bottom, I looked around at the trolls wandering nearby and felt myself seize up. I wanted to stay close to Poppy but wasn’t sure how I ought to act anymore. In her pod, I could let myself do whatever came naturally to me, but out here things were different.

Poppy stood up and held out a hand to help me to my feet. “Come on, Branch.”

She smiled and I felt better immediately, using her firm grip to pull myself up. She began to head off into the crowd and I loosened my hold, but she didn’t let go and so I walked beside her, content to follow wherever she led.

As we walked, I began to notice the way other couples treated each other, how they often touched each other in small, casual-yet-intimate gestures, and I wondered how Poppy and I looked to other trolls. Before yesterday I used to be perfectly comfortable touching her as her best friend, patting her arm or shoulder, holding her hand, and sharing warm hugs, but in light of our budding relationship those same gestures had taken on new significance. Even ordinary activities like hair-brushing.

My eyes lost focus as my mind kept going back to the surprisingly enjoyable experience of having Poppy brush my hair for me.I finally understood now why other trolls enjoyed doing something like that for each other when everyone was perfectly capable of brushing their own hair. It wasn’t really about keeping hair neat - it was about closeness. Something I’d had very little experience with since Grandma died.

_I kind of wish now that I’d accepted one of her slumber party invitations years ago._

It had been the most intimate experience I’d ever had, to feel so loved, so cared for. It had made me want to reach out to her, to everyone, to the world, welcoming everyone into my embrace. For the first time, I truly understood why Hug Time was so popular. 

_Is this how the other trolls feel all the time? So full of warm feelings that all they want to do is share them?_ If so, I could finally see why it would even occur to Poppy to try and befriend the bergens in the first place. I hadn’t really understood then. I’d helped out partly because of how strongly I’d empathized with Bridget - both of us in love and unable to confess it - and partly because it made good sense from a strategic viewpoint to make as many allies as we could in such a hostile situation.

In any case, I was feeling good. As we passed through the village, the Beadfest decorations and displays seemed so bright and cheery, moreso than any other celebration I’d ever seen. Even the chorus of ‘good mornings’ from the trolls we passed seemed especially merry. 

I didn’t realize I was smiling broadly until we spotted Biggie and the twins and went to greet them, when Biggie said, “Good morning, Poppy. And Branch – why, you look positively radiant today!”

I let go of Poppy, innocently tucking my hands behind my back. _Is it really that obvious?_ After all, she’d been beaming, too. _I guess on me a smile that big is a dead giveaway._

__Biggie cocked his head to the side. “Did you do something different with your hair?”

My eyes turned upward as everyone looked at me. It did feel different, now that I thought about it. A little looser maybe. Before I could really focus on it, Poppy put a hand on my arm, distracting me as she laughed with suspicious nervousness. “You know how Branch has been trying new things, right? Well, today he thought he’d try a new hairstyle for the festival. A little more free and easy. It looks good, doesn’t it?”

“Well, it’s not _that_ different,” Chenille replied. 

“I like it,” Satin said after a long, thoughtful look shared with her sister. “It’s still ‘Branch’, but a little less…controlled. Did something happen?”

I couldn’t help but share a guilty look with Poppy. Satin was the more sentimental twin, as I’d noted to Poppy earlier. Was the jig up already?

“Uh… Hey, Poppy, would you look at that!” I plastered a look of enthusiasm on my face. “They’ve got candy apples! The perfect blend of sweet and healthy.”

“Oh, really? I am so there. See you later, guys!”

I threw a quick glance over my shoulder in time to see our friends all looking at one another with varying degrees of confusion before I grabbed Poppy’s arm and dodged into a nearby unattended tent. 

Poppy looked around. “Hey, I think this is Guy Diamond’s tent.”

Everything around us was encrusted with iridescent silver glitter. “Oh, really?” I raised an eyebrow. “What makes you say that?”

She started to answer, then got a look at my face. “Oh, you and your sarcasm.”

“You know you love it.”

She rolled her eyes and I grinned. _Who knew flirting was so much fun?_

__Just then I caught my reflection in a large glittery mirror that had been hung from one of the support posts. My hair _was_ a little longer than normal, the topline a little more spread out, about halfway between my usual style and the way my hair had looked when I’d first gotten my colors back.

“Poppy, why didn’t you tell me about my hair?” I complained accusingly, turning to glare at her. “Now I have to leave it like this for the rest of the day.”

“Is that a bad thing?” Poppy put her hands behind her back and leaned toward me teasingly, making me reflexively lean backward before I realized what I was doing. Her voice took on an irresistibly cajoling lilt. “You knoow, you really doo look very handsome like that.”

_That’s not the point._ I opened my mouth to protest, but just then there was a muffled cry of excitement from somewhere really close by. I whipped my head around, scanning the interior of the tent and flicking my ears around to try to pinpoint the source. Giggles and glee, banter and happy shouts assaulted me from all sides, but I honestly couldn’t detect anything unusual. Finally I turned back to Poppy, ready to continue arguing, but one look at her sweetly admiring smile and I felt my irritation drain from me almost against my will. I sighed.

“Thanks. And no, it’s not bad; I just wasn’t expecting something like this.” I took a step closer to her, put a hand up to hide my mouth from the open end of the tent and whispered, “Do all trolls lose control of their hair when they’re in love?”

She looked surprised. “Maybe. I don’t know, really...”

I stared at her, my shoulders sagging. “Not helping.”

“Sorry, Branch.” Poppy started to put an arm around my shoulders, then seemed to reconsider and slipped it around my waist instead, drawing me in for a sideways hug. “Well, it’s not like it’s going to hurt you, right? So why don’t you just relax and enjoy it? Come onn…” she said playfully, gently poking my belly a couple of times with her finger. I twitched as she hit a ticklish spot, my sore muscles contracting uncomfortably as an involuntary smile tugged at my lips. 

Then she moved her hand up to twirl a strand of my hair around her finger. “You know you caann…” 

“Poppy,” I protested weakly, but the memory of her hands in my hair was more than enough to make me finally give her a sheepish grin.

_“There_ it is. I knew you could do it.” She beamed at me and started to pull me closer, but just then a horde of teenage trolls crowded into the tent and squashed us against the side wall. 

I traded anguished looks with Poppy just as I heard Guy Diamond’s unmistakable oscillating tone. “Hey, loOooOk, there goes this week’s current teen iidoOol!” 

As one, the crowd rushed out again, squealing and waving cameras, leaving me and Poppy staring after them before we looked at each other and grinned.

I expected to see Guy come sauntering in any moment, but even though we stood there for a while, no one else came in, not even potential customers. I looked at Poppy and shrugged. “Maybe silver glitter isn’t ‘in’ right now.” Faintly, I thought I heard an indignant trill in the background, but when we went outside and looked around, I didn’t see any of our friends nearby.

In the interest of duty, Poppy and I decided to do a quick tour of the village before stopping at any of the displays which beckoned to us with bright colors and sparkling glitter, just to make sure there were no trolls who needed us. 

My beautiful girlfriend wasn’t kidding when she said she was worried the other trolls wouldn’t let us alone to enjoy each other’s company in peace. Even without knowing about our new relationship, for a while we were constantly being stopped for comments, questions or conversation, although at some point later on, it occurred to me that we hadn’t been approached in a while. That struck me as a little odd. 

Even so I was happy, wandering the Beadfest with the girl I loved at my side and thoroughly enjoying the idea of being secret sweethearts. Every so often I’d sneak a glance at her, admiring shining eyes, perfect lips, delicate glitter freckles and a petite shape enticingly filled with vivacious energy. Sometimes she would meet my gaze and break into a big, happy smile which charmed a matching smile of my own from my heart.

Queen Poppy truly was the center of Troll Village. I could practically see the network of invisible hair strands connecting her to each and every troll, from the eldest tottery ladytroll to the tiniest newborn trolling.

But I was the most import one to her. Poppy had said so. It was a little humbling to say the least, that she had chosen _me_ out of all these happy trolls to fall in love with. I also couldn’t help feeling a little smug – _finally,_ I was getting a little recognition for all my hard work and dedication.

_Speaking of dedication…_

__I had a hard time tearing my eyes away from my lady love, but I did manage to scan the displays and the crowd’s bead-related activities as we passed them. _There’s no lack of creativity among the happy residents of our village, that’s for sure!_

__There were literally dozens of booths and displays scattered around the village, a cornucopia of brilliant colors (and glitter). Jewelry, beaded clothing and handicrafts competed with bead-themed games and rides.

There were beads made of everything you could imagine, and even some that weren't. Beads of rose gold, silver, copper and yellow gold, furry beads, beads made from the shed exoskeletons of some of our helper beetles in brilliant metallic hues of ruby, emerald, cobalt and flame. Beads that glowed, rubbed with bioluminescent oil from one of the many species with the power of self-illumination, including troll-hair oil. 

There was even an entire section of edible beads, tiny delicacies threaded into bracelets or necklaces. I took note of the strings of tart berries, savory olives, and juicy vegetables like cherry tomatoes and crisp fresh peas. Cheese balls alternated with bready crackers, or maybe crackery bread. And there were certainly enough tasty desserts to satisfy any troll’s sweet tooth, in the form of dainty miniature cupcakes, muffins, donuts, and brownie bites. I even saw chocolate and caramel nuggets. 

_Probably not the greatest idea, considering how sunny it turned out to be. At least that booth has an awning and is situated in deep shade._ Still, I was tempted. _If I hadn’t just had breakfast… I think I'll be visiting this booth shortly._

__And of course there were beglittered beads in a rainbow of colors and styles everywhere…just _everywhere._

Poppy kept asking me if I wanted to wear earrings or a necklace or three, as she was, but although all were pretty, none of the beads really appealed to me beyond momentary admiration of their beauty or uniqueness until we came upon a cluster of tents all offering beads made from wood. Some were smooth and glossy, others were delicately carved with spiraling filigree swirls, rich with subtle shines of reds and creams, browns and golds that appealed to the craftsman in me.

“Hey, Poppy, once our once-over is done, I’d like to swing by here.” I nodded toward the wooden wares and Poppy gazed at them for a moment. 

“Oh, nice. Different. Maybe not as bright or eye-catching as some, but very beautiful in their own way. And of course, carving them takes some impressive skill.”

One display had beads made from smooth-washed river stones in soft, muted tones and the next had shiny, highly polished gemstone beads – rainbow-flecked opal, fiery carnelian, sparkling light-green adventurine, crystalline amethyst and striped green-and purple fluorite, delicate rose quartz, shimmering tigereye, glowing moonstone, golden amber and brilliant sky-blue topaz. 

I saw lots of fuzzy or hairy beads, too. Even some that looked like the caterbug had barfed up a few neon-pink hairballs. _Yeaahh, moving on now._

__Then we arrived at a large clearing boasting enormous soft bouncy ‘beads’ even taller than Biggie, made from boingo fruits, with giddy trolls gleefully bouncing on them in wild, jerky corkscrew circles as they clutched the ropes tied through the boingos’ hollow centers.

Poppy’s eyes lit up. “Hey, Branch, want to have a race on those later?” 

She held her hand up and I gave her a high-five and grinned. “You bet!”

Boingos were a hoot to ride; a fun challenge since they were difficult to steer and had a tendency to bounce in unexpected directions. I did feel a vague sense of anxiety at the sight of trolls riding them without helmets on, though. I was still trying to get Poppy to mandate their use for certain activities but since no one had ever been seriously injured while riding boingos – since trolls instinctively catch themselves with their hair when they do fall – I’d had no luck. 

_I wish I could get everyone to take me more seriously. I mean, it’s not like I don’t understand that some of my safety measures can be a little…tedious. Even I have found myself tempted to forgo certain safety protocols lately, like not checking the tensile strength of a spring before using it as a launching pad, or, depending on what measures I use to regulate the launch, not estimating the precise spot where I’ll land._

__Even so, I was realistic enough to know that it was inevitable that the occasional bead would be swallowed in the natural state of merry chaos that characterized all troll festivities, but since none of them were made of anything toxic – I double-checked on _that_ every year – the only potential hazards were slipping and falling, and choking. I’d addressed those issues a few days ago, distributing pamphlets and posting notices reminding trolls to watch where they stepped, to only smile with their teeth clenched when near any display with moving beads, and to keep an eye on all trollings.

As I did every year, I’d also asked for volunteers to learn a technique I’d read about in one of my family journals called the Heimlich Manuever – a nifty little move that was easy to learn and did a lot to give me some peace of mind. _There were lots of volunteers this year. Not just my friends, but almost a dozen more. Maybe I_ am _making progress._ I felt my chest swell with pleasure and satisfaction, remembering that.

Of all the things I observed the thing I noticed most was that more often than not when I looked at Poppy, she was looking back. Smiling at me. 

-O-

Poppy was in a state of bliss, soaking up the happy vibes in the very air around her and enjoying this festival more than she could remember ever enjoying a festival before. Because Branch was right there, enjoying it with her, the days of his refusing invitations long past now. Because they had finally talked about their feelings and set things straight between them, and it turned out that Branch loved her, and she loved him back.

In retrospect, the young queen wondered just how long she’d been in love with him. Maybe if he hadn’t been so adamantly avoidant when it came to anything the least bit romantic between them, she might have caught on to her own feelings sooner. It was a little frustrating, but she did understand that he’d been afraid to jeopardize his new friendship with her.

_Oh, well. Something would have happened sooner or later to expose his feelings. It’s not like life in this village is ever boring!_ She glanced sideways at her aquamarine boy, admiring way the sunlight highlighted the smoothly toned definition in his arms and shoulders and wishing that the borrowed yellow tank top didn’t cover up so much of his chest. _Speaking of exposure…_

__She fuzzed out for minute, remembering the tantalizing feel his soft, downy skin beneath her fingers after his bath and how surprised she’d been at how quickly he’d responded, as if that gentle touch had been the signal he’d been waiting for all along. _Maybe I should have taken the lead a long time ago._

__Except that she too had been getting to know _him_ , the real Branch, the one whose hidden secrets had always drawn her to him. The sweet, sensitive Branch who had finally, _finally_ let her in, with his beautiful blue eyes and angelic voice and charismatic smile and tempting physique...

She swallowed, suddenly wanting to reach out and run her hands over his body right there. _I know I told Branch that we wouldn’t try to hide our relationship, but there are still some things that even we trolls only do in private._

__Trolls were a passionate, physical people; it was one of the reasons the Hug Time tradition had been created. It gave them a healthy, structured way to show physical affection to their fellow trolls, and right now, she wished it really _was_ Hug Time all the time. _The next Hug Time, I’m gonna hug you so good…_

__She bit her lip, standing so close to him she could smell his warm, sweet skin. _Um. Maybe we could find someplace to hug in private around here somewhere? Hey, there’s no one in this booth._

__Poppy tugged Branch backward into a booth with a beautifully carved sign in fancy calligraphy proclaiming ‘Whizbang’s Wooden Wonders’.

“Whoa! Poppy, what the – Oh, my.”

The pink troll watched her boyfriend’s eyes get bigger and bigger, as if he’d just stumbled into a treasure trove. He turned slowly, gazing raptly around the large enclosed booth full of what looked like puzzles made from wood. 

Each puzzle was beautifully made of gracefully carved wood in every shade – from palest birch and oak, through warm reddish cherry and mahogany, to dark walnut and ebony. Some were a blend of several contrasting or complementary colors, their pieces so beautifully joined with such precision that the seams were nearly invisible. All had been lovingly sanded and polished to a silky-smoothness that made her want to caress them for the pure pleasure of it.

“Look at these,” Branch breathed. “They’re works of art.”

“They sure are,” Poppy agreed. _The Whizbang family is so talented. The best builders in the whole village. Well, except for my Branch._ She closed her eyes as a thrill went through her, and repeated the thought as a wide, lazy smile spread across her lips. _My Branch._

__Branch reached for a puzzle with hungry fingers and she gave up on the idea of hugging him for now, in favor of playing with the Wonders. Some of the puzzles were simple to figure out, merely flat pieces that, when placed next to each other, created a simple picture of a heart or a hill with the sun rising behind it. Others were more challenging; brain teasers such as three-dimensional spheres or cubes or grids that could only be put together in the correct sequence of interlocking pieces.

The most frustratingly challenging, though, were a set of fascinatingly intricate puzzles shaped like squares or cubes or spheres, but made entirely out of thin wooden chutes that twisted in and out and around on themselves like a Mobius strip gone crazy. The object was to move a small round wooden bead along the chutes through the entirety of the puzzle and back to the starting point. 

The trick here was that many of the chutes had dead ends, requiring you to backtrack often. Also, the inner chutes were hard to see and could only be reached by using your hair, thus encouraging you to use your imagination to create a mental map of the puzzle’s inner schema. 

Poppy was good at putting things together, but for Branch, who loved drawing diagrams, puzzles like these were a dream come true. The pink troll could just see Branch peacefully passing time with them, his mind so pleasantly occupied there was no room for worry. She resolved to ask the Whizbangs to create some special puzzles just for him. They would make perfect gifts.

The two of them got distracted for a while, challenging each other to see who could solve each puzzle the fastest. For a while she was actually ahead, but then Branch began to consistently defeat her. He began standing at her elbow offering ‘helpful’ suggestions and smirking. 

“Branch, please stop that.” She gritted her teeth, suppressing a Branchlike growl. Like him, she hated to lose.

“I’m sorry.” He started to chuckle, his blue eyes crinkling at the corners. “I’m trying not to say anything snarky. I really am.”

“How are you solving them so fast?” she demanded finally. _There goes my gift idea!_

__“Repeating patterns,” he said enigmatically.

“What?”

“I recognize some of the patterns.”

“Are you sure? All of these puzzles seem unique to me.”

“Not the puzzles. The patterns. For example, the puzzle you’re holding is based on a fractal pattern.”

“Oh.” Like most artistically inclined trolls, she knew about the repeating patterns found in nature, with the same pattern repeated smaller and smaller until it was too small to see anymore. “How clever! And a bit sneaky.”

Branch laughed again and she smiled, her mood brightening at the sheer delight in his tone. She wasn’t the only one.

“So good to hear that my puzzles are the source of such happiness,” a gruff, jolly voice said from outside.

Branch’s ears perked up and he tilted his head like a puppy. “That voice…”

Her boyfriend’s mirth faded as gazed at the two trolls entering the booth. The Whizbangs were a kindly middle-aged couple. Savvy, the wife, had light blue skin and lemon yellow hair, and her husband Finetune had light pink skin and turquoise hair. 

Branch and the Whizbangs stood and stared awkwardly at one another, while Poppy’s topknot flicked back and forth as she sensed the strained atmosphere between them. Just then three Hug Time bracelets flowered, their tiny chimes sounding unusually loud in the enclosed space. The older couple glanced uncertainly at Branch and then at each other.

Refusing to hug at Hug Time was big deal in Troll Village, causing a lot of hurt feelings, sometimes even anger. Gray and grumpy though he’d been, even Branch had usually complied with their most valued custom, passively allowing other trolls to hug him for as long as he could bear it before squirming away from the arms of his fellows. 

But he wasn’t gray anymore, so what was the problem?

Just then Savvy smiled warmly at Branch and Finetune said softly, “Hey-hey, Branchkin.”

“‘Branchkin’?” Poppy repeated, raising an eyebrow.

At the sound of what must have been an old greeting, something extraordinary happened. Branch broke out into a huge grin and opened his arms wide. “Tuney! Savvy!” he said affectionately. 

Finetune and Savvy wore matching pleased smiles as they threw their arms around the aquamarine troll while Poppy stood nearby, her mouth hanging open, completely forgetting to join the hug herself.

“It’s so good to see you, Branch!” Savvy sounded almost tearfully glad to see him. Finetune thumped Branch heartily on the back as if he hadn’t seen the young troll in years.

_Come to think of it, he probably hasn’t._

__“So, I’m guessing you all know each other?” Poppy asked as their flowers closed up, unable to keep silent any longer.

“Yeah,” Branch said as they all stepped apart, still smiling so brightly he looked like a different troll. Or at least, a younger version of himself. “When I was a trolling I used to follow Savvy and Finetune around, learning how to build things. They’re both amazing mechanical engineers. Really, really talented. I learned so much from them!”

The older trolls looked surprised. “Why, thank you, darling, what a nice compliment! Tell me, how have you been?” Savvy took his face in her hands, gently smooshing his cheeks in a motherly way as she looked him over, and Branch blushed.

“Fine,” he said, his voice slurred.

“Aww, that’s so cute!” Poppy clasped her hands together at the heartwarming sight. “Wait. So _that’s_ where you learned to build things. I always wondered.” 

Savvy cooed proudly, “ _Such_ a smart boy, this one! He always picked things up so fast; so curious, so inventive. He even came up with innovations we’re still using to this day!”

“Uh, thanks, but could you…” Branch mumbled through adorably squashed lips.

“Oh, sorry, dear.” Savvy let him go with a gentle chuckle which Finetune joined, both of them looking at the aquamarine troll in an oddly soft way. Almost as if he were their…

“I wish Laurel were here to see you,” Finetune said, and he and Savvy traded meaningful glances as Branch’s ears stiffened. Just like that, his good humor was gone.

Poppy frowned thoughtfully, searching among the 262 trolls in her memory for the face to match the name that had freaked him out. __

__Finetune sighed and continued, “She’s doing an emergency repair on Alder’s pod. Problem with the plumbing.”

Branch relaxed. “Uh, well, tell her I’m sorry I missed her.”

Something clicked in Poppy’s head. “Oh, right; Laurel’s your daughter,” Poppy said, and turned to Branch. “I didn’t know you knew her.”

“Oh, yes, he and Laurel were good friends, before-” Finetune cut himself off, looking at Branch and then away.

No one wanted to say it. _Before he went and hid in a hole in the ground for a decade._

__Branch tried to conceal it, but he was practically squirming _._ Poppy was dying to ask him what was going on, but she didn’t want to make things any more awkward for the Whizbangs. 

But as queen, it was her job to help her people work out their differences so everyone could be happy. Even if it meant pushing things a little.

_Maybe it’s because I’m here._ Well, that was easy to fix – and it would work nicely her plan to attend to the other task she had set herself to complete today. She licked her lips and said into the thick silence, “Uh, listen, Branch, it sounds like you have a lot to catch up on. Why don’t you stay here and have a nice chat while I head out to run an errand?”

He looked startled. “An errand? During Beadfest?”

“Not exactly…” She scrambled for an excuse. “I just thought I’d go get one of those candy apples you mentioned earlier. Would anyone else like one?”

Branch gaped at her as Savvy and Finetune politely accepted her offer. When she turned to him he gave her a puzzled look. “No, thanks. We - uh - _I_ just had breakfast. I’m not hungry yet.”

“Okay, be right back.” She headed for the front of the booth, then paused at the entrance and said casually over her shoulder, “Oh, and I may need to drop by Mandy Sparkledust’s place for a minute.”

“Something the matter with your Hug Time bracelet?” Branch asked.

“Want me to take a look at it?” Inadvertently part of a choir, the aquamarine troll traded surprised looks with Finetune and Savvy, who had matched his offer word for word. They all laughed, which reassured the young queen. 

_Whatever it is that’s bothering them can’t be too bad._

__She’d taken too long to answer. With Branch giving her a distinctly suspicious glare, she managed to find the right reply. “I appreciate the offer, but taking care of the Hug Time bracelets is Mandy’s family’s special craft, going back generations. It makes people feel good, to know they’re needed.”

In her peripheral vision she saw Finetune share a glance with Savvy. “Of course, Queen Poppy,” he replied. “That’s very thoughtful of you. We understand.”

“Okay, bye!”

-O-

I looked after Poppy, rubbing my chin thoughtfully. _I wonder what she’s up to…_

__“She’s got that look in her eye,” I said aloud.

“What look?” Finetune asked.

“The look that says she’s concocting another one of her elaborate, over-the-top plans that involves singing-dancing-hugging-glitter and lately, me having to wear some sort of embarrassing costume.”

Both of them chuckled gently, and Savvy said, “It’s wonderful that you know her so well, darling.”

_I guess I do._ I blinked in surprise and they chuckled again, but for some reason their laughter made me feel better, so I merely sighed and resigned myself to accept my fate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I base the total number of trolls in the village on movie-Branch saying how his supplies will only last the villagers two weeks. Ten years x 365 days = 3650 total days that the supplies would last Branch alone. Divide that by 14 days, 3650/14 = 260, roughly. So I chose 262 for the number of trolls in Troll Village.
> 
> While I love hearing that certain lines of scenes made you laugh out loud, what I’d really like to know is whether you caught my more subtle humor, like puns, clever wordplay or hidden jokes and references to the TV series. For example, did you catch that Branch’s remark about a detour is a reference to the episode ‘Branch Bum’? The kind of humor that makes you go, “Aha, I see what you did there…”


	8. Old Friends

Poppy began to head off into the crowd, then stopped to look back at Branch smiling and laughing with the older couple as easily as he did with their friends now. For a minute she smiled fondly at the unexpectedly homey scene, but gradually the good feeling went away and she experienced a slew of less-than-happy emotions that left her insides taut. 

_Since when does he know Laurel? I didn’t think he even_ had _any friends before we all bonded during our adventure with the bergens!_

_There’s so much about his past I don’t know. I was just a trolling when he withdrew from society to become a survivalist. He’s spent most of the past_ _ten years alone, full of fear and anger and loneliness…_

__The pink troll didn’t notice her ears droop slightly, or the way her hands curled together against her chest as she gazed unseeingly down at the grass. _I feel like should have done more to help him. Maybe instead of me trying to pull him out into the world, what if I’d tried to join him in his instead? Gotten him to invite me into his bunker or something. We could have bonded down there, one-on-one._

The corners of her mouth pulled downward, and she finally caught herself and fought off the despondency and regret that was trying to take hold of her. _What are you always telling Branch? Look for the positives here. So maybe you don’t know much about his past. That just means you’ll have the fun of discovery, right? Look what you found out completely by chance: Branch knew the Whizbangs as a trolling, and they obviously still consider him a friend. That’s great news, right?_

__She squared her shoulders and began marching determinedly through the crowd.

_And…you’ll make sure he’s never lonely again._

__The pink troll followed a winding path through the riotous assembly of wooden booths, cloth tents and open-air exhibits toward Mandy’s pod for a while and then stopped. _Wait. One of these displays is probably Mandy’s family’s. They’re craftspeople, after all._

She voiced her question aloud, and several nearby trolls affirmatively answered her. A pretty young female with pale pink hair named Cherry Blossom offered to lead her to Mandy’s tent. Wanting to get back to Branch as soon as possible, she accepted.

As they made their way through the festival, Poppy began to remember what she knew about the troll who walked beside her. Cherry Blossom was the teacher for grade four, the 13-15 age group, which was highest level of general education that most trolls received. Despite being only a few years older than Branch, she was mature and exceedingly intelligent; but not in an overbearing way, as Branch sometimes was, for in addition to her mental acuity her emotional intelligence was right up there, and she was as gentle and patient and understanding as any student could ask for. 

She was also highly curious about the world in general; extremely enthusiastic about learning, and she did an excellent job motivating her students to ask questions and seek out answers on their own (and then share their knowledge with her). 

Her coloring was striking as well; vivid deep ruby red skin, a pink nose and pale pink hair that was darker pink at the tips. She carried her hair in a graceful style, fanned out into five flowing petals that were reminiscent of the lovely flower for which she’d been named, and her delicately-shaped eyeglasses drew attention to her pretty bright-green eyes. 

She wore a scholarly pine-green pleated skirt with a delicate pattern of cherry blossom petals embroidered near the bottom hem and a cream-colored button-up blouse with a matching blossom pattern on the collar. The buttons, Poppy noticed, were actually pink beads in the shape of cherry blossom flowers. She wondered if the twins had designed such a cute outfit just for her, and if Poppy could get them to make her one. The twins could be iffy about such things, not wanting to ‘repeat themselves’.

Much as Poppy had loved her own mentors, she thought a little wistfully that she would enjoy having someone so close to her own age as a teacher. _Branch likes to study; maybe for fun we could take some kind of short workshop together sometime?_

__“Queen Poppy, I’m glad I have this opportunity to speak with you. I’d like to ask you a question, if I may?” Cherry Blossom spoke with a slight accent similar to Biggie’s, her voice soft and refined.

“Of course, Cherry Blossom. Something about school? Anything I can help you with? And please, call me Poppy. We're both teachers, right?” 

For she herself was in charge of teaching certain subjects such as troll history, culture, music, and how to get along with others to the first two grades, which covered the 4-6 and 7-9 age ranges. Trollings were always taught in groups that spanned three years, to help them learn to interact with trollings who were both younger and older than they.

“Thank you for the offer, but all my students are doing splendidly,” said Cherry Blossom. “But if it’s not too much of an imposition, may I ask how Branch is doing?”

“What?” Poppy asked, startled. _I was just thinking about him. It’s like she read my mind._

The ruby red troll smiled. “You and Branch have been…special friends for a while now, haven’t you?”

“Wh-what makes you say that?” Cheeks heating, the pink troll turned away, staring at the displays she passed without seeing them. _Just how perceptive is she? I know it’s common knowledge that we’re friends, but it feels like she’s implying that we’re - Should I admit we’re dating? Is it_ that _obvious that we’re into each other and probably have been since we faced the bergens together?_

__“Oh, I was on my way to the festival when I happened to see the two of you emerge from your pod this morning.”

“Oh.” Poppy’s eyes popped, and she bit her lip as her panicked brain combed her memory. _What did we do this morning? Were we still holding hands when we came out? Oh! We rode together on the slide, didn’t we? And we were acting like lov- Oh my gosh!_

__The pink troll put her hands to her burning cheeks. “Boy, the sun sure is warm today, isn’t it?”

Cherry Blossom covered her mouth with her hand and let out a soft little laugh, her gaze tender and somehow sparkling despite the fact that she was not a glitter troll. “Oh, you are adorable. So sweet. I remember how it was with Leafe and me…” She trailed off with an enchanted look on her face.

Distinctly uncomfortable now, Poppy cleared her throat and Cherry Blossom seemed to catch herself. “Sorry. I just meant that I wanted to convey how glad I am that Branch seems to be doing so well. Happy colors, and all that. So much better than how he was before.”

Poppy caught that. “You sound like you knew him.”

“Just a bit. Before he retreated… I mean, before he went off to create that extraordinary safety bunker. He knew my husband, Leafe, better.” Cherry Blossom gave her a solemn look. “Branch was always very…intense. Very smart, highly focused. He had a lot of deep thoughts that made him a fascinating person to talk to, when you could get him to open up.”

“Tell me about it.” Poppy grinned wryly. 

“He’s a good person, though. Wonderful foresight and perseverance. That bunker of his is a marvel.”

“He’s definitely one of a kind. It’s a challenge sometimes, but totally worth it.”

Cherry Blossom smiled back and reached out to touch Poppy’s arm, her forehead wrinkling in concern. “So he’s doing well, then?”

“He is. He’s happy.” Poppy let out a contented sigh, suddenly not minding if her companion did guess the true nature of their relationship. _“We’re_ happy.” Her voice had the slight huskiness that always seemed to emerge whenever she felt deeply about something.

“I see.” Green eyes gazed at her contemplatively, and then the ruby troll was beaming at her warmly. “I’m _so_ glad. For both of you.” She glanced away, then back. “Would it be all right to let Leafe know? They were good friends, once. I know he’d love to hear that Branch is…in a good place now.”

Poppy smiled. “Of course. I’m sure he’d be glad to know there are trolls who are thinking about him.”

Cherry Blossom gave her a friendly farewell when they reached Mandy’s tent and Poppy stood for a long moment, staring thoughtfully into space before making her way inside. 

-O-

“So, Branchkin – er, Branch. Heh, the old nickname just slipped out, didn't it?” Finetune had a kindly, down-to-earth way of talking that I had always found reassuring. “Sorry about that. Just remembered you didn’t want us to call you that anymore. Hope I didn't embarrass you in front of the queen.”

“That’s all right. Actually, it felt kind of good to hear it again,” I admitted. “Besides, I’m used to it. Poppy embarrasses me all the time.”

I rolled my eyes and gave them my best grumpy-frown, and they laughed. That made me feel good. Unlike most trolls, they understood my sense of humor. I crossed my arms and smiled, feeling myself relax into their warm acceptance.

“Well, look at you, Branch, so big and strong…” Savvy reached out to take my hands and looked up at me. I don’t know why I was surprised to realize that I was half a head taller than she was now, and probably matched Finetune in height. “But you know what?” 

“What?”

“You’ll always be little Branchkin to us.”

Suddenly overwhelmed by what Poppy would call the warm fuzzies, I pulled away and rubbed the back of my neck. “Thanks. Really.” I remembered what else about me had changed. “Um, so, do you like my new colors?”

“Sure do! Very handsome.” Finetune gave me a thumb’s-up, beaming at me.

“Of course, dear.” Savvy’s purple eyes were as compassionate as ever. “They’re beautiful, but not just in and of themselves. They’re beautiful because of what they mean, that you’re happy now. You are, aren’t you?”

“Savvy, as I told Poppy just yesterday, I’ve never been as happy in my entire life,” I reassured her, feeling the corner of my mouth go up. “Literally.”

“We are so glad to hear that. And Branch, dear, we want you to know-” Savvy looked at her husband and he nodded as she continued, “-how proud we are of you.”

“You - you are? Really?” Finetune nodded again as I gave the two of them a wide-eyed look, remembering how I’d treated them the last few months before I’d ducked out of troll society entirely, and felt the shadow of guilt hovering, ready to descend.

“You’re such a good boy, so helpful to Queen Poppy.”

“Oh, uh, you think so?” 

“Right, dear, and remember what a great job he did when he sang to us all in that bergen pot?” Finetune threw a hand dramatically into the air. “There we were, the entire village, thinkin’ it was lights out for all of us.”

Savvy and I exchanged indulgent smiles as I recalled fondly how much Finetune loved to tell stories. I’d never really thought to wonder what the other trolls had experienced in that pot, but it looked like I was going to get the chance to find out.

“Then we hear a voice. A glorious voice I never heard before, singin’ in the darkness, and who does it turn out to be but little Branchkin, and suddenly I realize this musta been how he’s felt all these years, and it’s the worst thing I ever felt. But you know what? He’s not givin’ up. Oh, no. Not him. He knows what he’s doin’. He built that fantastic bunker complex all by himself and stocked it with everything the village could possibly need.”

_Supplies for me, not the village._ I felt a sting of shame at that, but Finetune kept going.

“So here he is, singin’ his heart out, tellin’ the princess how much he loves her and how she can always count on him…” 

I slapped myself on the forehead and groaned. “Tuney…” Savvy looked as if she was holding back an amused smile. 

Undeterred, Finetune went on, “And the next thing you know the princess is glowin’ like a flashbug, and we all start to realize – the game’s not over yet. Where there’s life, there’s hope, right? And then our little gray Branchkin blooms like a flower, showin’ everyone the beautiful colors he always had inside-”

“What?” I asked, startled.

“-and it makes me feel so gosh darn happy I bust out into colors myself, and so does Savvy and Laurel and everybody else. And just like that we escape, just like we did twenty years ago, only this time it’s ‘cause Branch and his friends made friends with that nice Bridget bergen girl and she’s the king’s girlfriend, so of course now we’re all friends.”

Finetune threw an arm across my shoulders and gave me a rough squeeze. 

“And who do we have to thank? This guy right here. Who else could’ve done it? Nobody, that’s who. And he’s got the best voice in the entire village; that’s what I tell everyone.”

“A wonderful voice,” Savvy agreed.

“Well, thanks, I-”

“And any day now we’re expecting to hear that you and the queen are making it official-”

“What?” I squawked, squirming out from Finetune’s grasp. “Wait, wait, whoa! We’re not…” Somehow I couldn’t bring myself to lie and say we weren’t together, but I wasn’t ready to admit it, either.

Finetune looked perplexed. “Well, what’s she waiting for? If she doesn’t hurry up, some other troll might set their cap for you and you’ll have to turn them down.”

“Tuney!”

“Yes?”

“I – we-” _What do I say? Before yesterday I could’ve said we were just friends, but now…_ I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Look, Tuney, Savvy, things between me and Poppy are…complicated. We need some time to work things out. In all honesty, I’m still getting used to being part of the village again. I’m not the Branchkin you remember.”

“We know, dear.” Savvy’s tone was soft. “You were always so afraid to let yourself care for anyone. You didn’t want to let anyone in. But somewhere along the way, you learned to. Seeing you around the village these days, singing and dancing and playing with your friends, makes our hearts light,” she said gently. “Because we love you, Branchkin. You’re like a son to us. And you always will be.”

“Savvy…” I don’t know what my face was doing right then, but suddenly I needed to clear my throat against the tightness. “I’m so sorry.”

“Sorry for what, dear?”

“For avoiding you all this time. And for pretending you didn’t mean anything to me, back when you both took me under your wing and taught me so much. It wasn’t fair to you.”

As one, both of them wrapped their arms around me. “That’s all right, Branchkin, sweetheart. You needed to work things out in your own time.”

“We remember how troubled you were back then,” Finetune said consolingly. “You had to do what was right for you, son, even if it meant building a ginormous bunker complex to make you feel safe.”

“Thanks, you guys.” I hugged them extra hard before we all let go.

Finetune grinned. “I gotta admit, Branch, you did a fantastic job. Even Laurel was impressed.”

“She was? I mean, is?”

“Sure is. Says she wants to have another look-see at the place sometime, now that it’s not wall-to-wall trolls.”

“Really?”

They both nodded and I bit my lip, then asked, “How is Laurel?”

Both of them beamed proudly and Finetune bragged, “Oh, she’s doing great. As good an engineer as her mom and pop, maybe better.” He winked at me. “But don’t tell her that.” 

Savvy said, “She has a family now, did you know that?”

I lost my smile and looked at the ground, feeling my ears dip slightly. “No. I knew she was getting married, but…” _I didn’t want to hear anything about it. Everything was still so raw, then._

__The two of them were quiet, catching my subdued mood. “You really are still catching up, aren’t you, dear?” Savvy said gently. “Yes, Laurel has a family now and she’s doing just fine. Would you like to meet them?” she said hopefully.

“They’ll be dropping by later on,” Finetune added. “I know Laurel would love to see you.”

“…I’d like that.” And I actually meant it, to my surprise. I guess ten years really was enough time to rub the edge off a lot of hurt. Or maybe I’d changed enough that the troll who’d been hurt seemed like a different person, whose memories were just enough offset from mine that I could finally view them objectively. A certain pink troll might just be responsible for that change…

Finetune apparently decided to a change of topic would help lighten the mood. “So… Come on, buddy, tell us. You and the queen? That’s a thing, right?” Finetune elbowed him. “Right? Eh? Eh?”

I winced as he got me good right in the stomach, and stepped back to rub it with a sheepish grin. “Yeah, we’re together.” _So much for keeping a low profile._

__“Yes!”

I literally jumped as both of them whooped, victory fists thrown high in the air.

“That’s our boy!” Finetune bellowed jubilantly and the next thing I knew, I was showered with confetti and the both of them broke out in a wild dance of gleeful celebration.

“Guys, hold on!” I held up my hands. _“Guys!”_ They froze, and Finetune stepped down from the booth’s zebrawood countertop. “Listen, I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone about this. Poppy only told me she loved me yesterday, okay?”

“Aww.” They put an arm around each other’s waists, and gazed at me with weirdly shimmering eyes and sappy lovely-dovey smiles.

“Stop that.” I waved my hands at them. “Stop it. Stop.”

They eased up a little on their intensity and I sighed. “See, we were hoping to have a little time to ourselves before telling everyone. Once we do, it’s gonna be nonstop parties for like, days, right?”

“Weeks. Maybe months!” Savvy corrected me. “Oh, my, it’s so exciting! A royal wedding!”

“Savvy, please!” My voice cracked. “I didn’t say anything about a wedding!” Desperate now, I had to fall back on my last resort. I didn’t want to do it, but I knew the time had come to turn on my charm. “Do you remember what it was like when the two of you first started dating?”

Judging by the syrupy-sweet looks they turned on each other, they did. 

“Then you know it’s a special time for Poppy and me right now. We need to spend some time alone together, and with Poppy as queen, that’s not easy.” I stepped close to the both of them and put my hands on their shoulders, drawing them close until our faces were inches apart “So can I count on you to help me keep this quiet?”

“Well.” Finetune broke eye contact with me to meet Savvy’s gaze, then turned his green eyes back to me. “We’re trolls, you know. We’re not very good at keeping secrets…”

“Pleeese?” I tried making the same face I’d seen Poppy use on her dad, all pouty lip and big puppy-dog eyes. “For me?”

“Oh…” Savvy twisted her hands together and Finetune rubbed the back of his neck.

“All right, son. We’ll try.”

“Thank you!” I said briskly. _What do you know? It worked. I gotta remember that._

__Maybe now would be a good time to get out of there, before anything else happened.

“You know what, I’m gonna go see what’s taking Poppy so long with those candy apples.” I took a step back and then before I knew it they were hugging me. Again. _Yep._ Definitely _time to go. I think I’ve reached my hug quota for a while. This is getting waaay too touchy-feely now._

Still, I hugged them back warmly, appreciating for the first time in a while just how generously forgiving trolls were. I doubted I’d have been able to let bygones be bygones, just like that.

After I made my escape outside, I shaded my eyes and scanned the festival for a flash of bright pink or a perky soprano voice. _I wonder what she meant about going to Mandy’s? Her Hug Time bracelet didn’t seem to be malfunctioning to me. Or was that just a convenient excuse to set another one of her elaborate shenanigans in motion?_

__I debated finishing the tour of the Beadfest on my own, since Poppy had decided for some reason to take a detour into the Whizbangs’ booth, but after a quick scan of my surroundings I decided we’d been just about done anyway. After watching the nearby attractions for a while, I got restless and I decided to go get the candy apples Poppy had promised to Finetune and Savvy, just in case she’d gotten sidetracked and forgotten her offer. I was feeling empty enough now to want to nibble on something if she did bring some back.

A few minutes later I dropped the tart-sweet snacks, which some enterprising troll had thought to bore holes through and thread on string to technically make them ‘beads’, off with the Whizbangs and went outside again to wait for Poppy. 

When she didn’t show up after a few minutes I wandered off, eventually making my way to a pleasant, grassy spot under the large central tree that sheltered the market square, out of the sun and away from the flow of cheerfully chatting troll traffic.

In the cool shade I began to relax. Sun-dappled foliage swished gently back and forth as a refreshing breeze greeted me, its invisible fingers playing gently with my hair in a way that reminded me of Poppy. I closed my eyes and smiled serenely as a pleasantly tingly feeling washed over me, feeling my senses heighten and extend to embrace the world around me as the same feeling of intimacy that Poppy had brought to life in me came back.

A sudden high-pitched shriek from above had me reflexively leaping forward to catch a small shape that came hurtling down before I fully realized what was going on. A small warm body hit my arms and I let out a grunt, bending my knees to absorb the force of the impact. 

The trolling I’d caught didn’t move. My heart lurched. Was she dead?

_“Poppy!”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here’s the first part of Branch’s backstory, as promised, introducing a number of my OCs (original characters). For Finetune’s voice, in my head I hear Danny DeVito, sort of a rough-around-the-edges well-meaning Brooklyn accent. Oh, and his name? I meant it in both senses of the word. He’s a fine singer/musician and is also very skilled at working with his hands, especially with mechanical equipment. Savvy is, too, as well as being highly intuitive in general. I love it when I can have a character’s name have many-layered meanings! Cherry Blossom is a delightful character inspired by Tomoyo from the anime Card Captor Sakura.


	9. Uncle Branch

_“Poppy!”_ I bellowed at the top of my lungs, and the trolling started, squeaking in fear. Overwhelmingly relieved, I hugged her against me. “I’m sorry, little one. Sorry for scaring you.”

Her little arms went around my neck as the frightened trolling started to whimper. Instinctively I began rocking from side to side, rubbing her back soothingly. “Shh, you’re all right. I caught you. You’re safe.”

“Branch?” Poppy yelled as she came racing up, barely coming to a stop before she ran us down. She took in the scene and gasped out, “What happened? Is she okay?” before leaning over with her hands on her knees to pant.

I looked up to see a group of concerned trolls gathered around us, including our friends and a pair of trolls I recognized from the class on the Heimlich Maneuver I’d taught a few days ago.

“Yeah, she’s fine, just a little scared. She fell out of the tree, but I caught her. She’s okay.”

“Well, thank goodness.” Poppy put a hand to her chest. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you yell like that.” 

The little one made a noise of distress. “Oh, I was just surprised,” I said in a blatantly fake-cheerful tone, giving Poppy a glare to stop her from saying anything else. “It’s not every day that a pretty little trolling like her falls into my arms. Hey, kiddo,” I said gently to distract her from her fear. “What's your name?”

“Fern!” came a distraught shout from behind me. I turned to see a young purple trolling with a pink nose and turquoise hair hurrying toward us.

“Hickory!” Fern called, leaning from my arms, reaching out to the male trolling, who looked about seven years old. I got ready to pass Fern to the troll I assumed was her brother, but when he reached us he didn’t stop, he just threw his arms around both of us. Fern clung to her brother as he asked her, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I was gonna go splat, but he catched me, Hickory!”

“Thank you!” Hickory's small arm around me tightened in gratitude. 

“No problem, little nut.” I smiled down at him before I realized what I'd called him. ‘ _Little nut’. That brings back memories…_

__Hickory turned to his sister. “Why didn’t you catch yourself with your hair like I taught you?” he scolded her, his amber-brown eyes unusually stressed for such a young trolling. He kind of reminded me of myself at his age, which piqued my interest.

I felt a tug at my hair and heard a squeaky giggle as Fern answered, “I couldn't see.”

She seemed to be all right now so I set her on her feet, noting that her eyes were barely visible under the edge of a thick paper headband with an inadvisably enormous number of beads glued to the front. She had purple skin a few shades lighter than her brother’s, with pretty pinkish-lavender hair instead of turquoise, and a mint-green nose. She looked to be about four, the age all trollings began to attend school.

“See?” She pushed it up with her fingers, revealing big grass-green eyes. “It won't stay up.”

“Well, that’s because it’s unbalanced,” I explained, just as Poppy also began to say something.

“Huh?” Fern looked confused.

“Sorry; didn’t mean to cut you off,” I said to Poppy, who nodded and smiled.

“That’s okay. Go on.” She gestured toward Fern and Hickory.

I looked down at the two trollings, taking in their puzzled expressions. “Do you understand what I mean by ‘unbalanced’?”

Brother and sister exchanged glances. “You mean…Fern lost her balance and fell off the branch because she couldn’t see, right?” said Hickory.

“Good guess, but that’s not what I… Here, let me demonstrate.” I looked up at the crowd of trolls still surrounding us, spotting some familiar faces. “Hey, guys, could I get your help for a minute?”

My friends agreed cheerfully.

“Okay, let’s move…um, over to that seesaw.” Fern, Hickory, Poppy, my friends and a herd of curious onlookers followed me.

“Thanks. Okay, Guy, would you go sit on that seesaw? And Biggie, please go stand near the other end.”

“Oh, I get it.” Poppy grinned at me.

“What?” Fern asked, lifting up one side of the headband and peering out at the cobalt-blue giant troll standing patiently beside the silvery glitter-troll who was sitting on the bottom end of the seesaw. 

“What do you think will happen when Biggie gets on?” I asked the trollings.

“Ohh…” Hickory’s eyes widened in realization.

Fern looked up at him, then back at the waiting trolls, then up at me. “Um…they’ll have fun playing on the teeter-totter?”

“Oh, will they? Well, we’ll see.” I turned to Guy Diamond. “Are you ready?”

“ReaADdy for actioOoOn!” he trilled dramatically, an anticipatory grin lighting up his already naturally dazzling face. He did so love to be the center of attention; something I’d counted on in my choice of recruits for this impromptu lesson.

“Okay, then. Go, Biggie!”

“Whee!” the big troll exclaimed joyfully as he leaped into the air and came down hard enough on the top end of the seesaw to launch my glittery friend into the air like a rocket.

“YahooOoOoOooo…” As his mellifluous happy-shout faded we saw the bright white hairbrella fan out, drastically slowing his fall. Then he shifted it to hair-glider shape and caught the wind, beginning to fly back toward the village.

“Wow…” breathed Fern and a number of other trolls. That was when I realized that the crowd around us was much larger; at least half the village, including quite a few trollings. “That was really cool!” she exclaimed, her big green eyes shining.

Something about her reaction set off a faint alarm bell in the back of my head, stirring up an odd, uneasy ripple in my hair, and I made a mental note for later.

“So, Fern, when I said that your headband was unbalanced, I meant there were too many beads on one side. In order to balance, you need to have about same amount of weight.” I held out my hands, shifting them in opposite directions as if they were the ends of the seesaw.

“Okay, DJ, Satin, and Chenille, could you go sit on the other end of the seesaw?”

“Sure,” they chorused, and when they were all in a row, Biggie’s side of the seesaw rose slowly but stayed below theirs. I kept my hands in the air, matched to the positions of the seesaw ends, and realized they needed just one more thing. “Umm, Smidge?”

“You got it,” the tiny yellow teacup troll acknowledged, her gravelly bass voice as imposing as ever. She punted herself off the ground with her hair and onto DJ’s shoulders. With her miniscule weight, the two sides were finally even. They cheered, and so did the watching crowd, as if my friends had just performed some kind of magic trick instead of a demonstration of one of the basic tenets of physics.

I rolled my eyes, smiling indulgently as I turned back to the trollings. “Fern, can you think of a way you could fix your headband so that it will be balanced like the seesaw?”

She took it off and looked at it, studying the massive clump of beads glued to the front. “This part is big and heavy, like Biggie.” She poked a finger at the clump. “Maybe I could add a whole bunch of beads to the other end, like your friends?”

“And what will that do?”

“It will make it flat,” she pantomimed drawing a level line from her temple to the back of her head.

“That’s right! It will make it balanced, so the weight on the front and the back will be the same. Then it won’t slide down over your eyes anymore.” I wanted to hug her but it wasn’t Hug Time and I didn’t want to set a bad example, so instead I affectionately ruffled her hair. “Good girl. I’m proud of you.”

She beamed up at me, her happy face making me feel warm all over. _Is this how a parent feels? It’s…kinda nice, actually. Oh, that reminds me._

__My friends had begun to gleefully ride the virtual representation of every major life choice, wittily shouting, “Pro!” and “Other pro!” as they soared and sank, since no troll ever wanted to be the ‘con’. Against that backdrop, I held up a finger and stated firmly, “Now, I don’t want any trolls to copy what Guy Diamond and Biggie just did.”

“Awww…” chorused most of the crowd, staring at me with big woebegone-puppy eyes.

“… _Until_ they’ve shown me they’re comfortable with parachuting and hair-gliding skills. Any troll who wants to practice them can ask me for help,” I finished, purposely projecting authority and assurance so they’d know I meant it. I wasn’t about to be the cause of a mass of flight-related accidents.

“Yay!” came the expected cheer, hands and hair wildly waving in the air.

I crossed my arms and smiled affectionately. Although my fellow trolls could be seriously annoying at times, their irrepressible enthusiasm was also totally endearing. No matter how many times I’d tried to cut myself off from everyone, I could never go more than a couple of weeks alone in my bunker before I started missing their smiling faces. _Even if half the time they were smiling and/or laughing because they thought I was silly for worrying about things none of them ever gave a thought about. I could never write my people off completely._

_Or maybe I missed one smiling face in particular…_

Like a flower toward the sun, I felt that familiar dreamy pull drawing me back to my love. As I turned to smile at her, I saw her giving me an odd look; half proud, half pensive. _Is something bothering her?_

__“What-” I began, but was distracted by a sudden rustle from within my hair. My eyes popped and sweat broke out all over me, panic jolting my spine straight.

“What’s wrong?”

“Poppy,” I squeaked hoarsely, trying not to upset whatever it was. “There’s something in my hair. Some kind of creature!” At any moment I expected to feel needle-sharp fangs stabbing me. How had I not noticed something sneaking up on me?

The trollings gazed up at me, their little faces reflecting my fear. Hickory swept Fern back behind him with a wary glance upward and even in the midst of my controlled panic I felt a warm flash of approval. Creek could takes lessons from him on bravery.

Poppy squinted, then used her hair to gingerly part mine. Then she gave a soft little laugh and I heard the remaining members of the crowd sigh in relief. 

“What is it?”

“I think you have a little visitor.”

“What?”

Just then I heard the same high-pitched giggle I’d heard earlier, and Hickory and Fern burst out laughing. I shifted my full attention to the contents of my hair. Since a troll's hair tended to negate the weight of anything carried within it, it was easy to forget what one was carrying, but now that I thought about it I remembered the tug on my hair earlier, the tug I’d assumed had been accidental; a result of the excitement of the moment.

“Wait a minute…”

“Whimsy,” Hickory chortled. “Are you in there?”

I parted my hair and sure enough a little head with a fluffy tuft of hair poked out, beaming with babyish delight at his game. The entire crowd was in hysterics now, even Poppy, who snorted and bent over, clutching her no-doubt-still-sore stomach, her bright topknot flapping like a flag in the wind.

At the feel of little feet shuffling within my hair, the annoyance I felt was swept away by an unexpected surge of protective tenderness that rose up inside me at the thought of sheltering a little one in my hair again, shielding him from the dangers of the world. It brought back a surge of memories, of times long past when I’d been a burdened soul, always restless, save for rare moments of peace. _Acorn. My little nut._

Not that I was in the same place at all, mentally or emotionally. _Thank goodness._ With a chuckle of my own, I held out my hands and said with tolerant affection, “Okay, come on out now.”

Baby Whimsy climbed down into my hands, so small he fit within them completely. Like his brother and sister he was purple, a mid-shade that went well with his vivid coral-colored hair. He shared his green eyes and nose with Fern, although his were more of an apple-green. He looked about two years old.

I shifted him to the crook of my arm and held him securely against me, then booped his nose and grinned at him. “What were you doin’, eh? Playing hide and seek?”

Fern informed me, “Whimsy likes to ride in Hickory’s hair.”

“He must have hitched a ride with you at some point,” Poppy guessed.

“Oh, yeah? Who’s a silly boy?” I ruffled the soft wisps of hair and Whimsy giggled, grabbing my arm in a cute little mini-hug that had every troll in the crowd sighing, “Awww….” 

“Yeah, he loves to make people laugh. Daddy said he’s gonna live up to his name,” Hickory said proudly.

“Well, he’s a real cutie. You all are!” Poppy beamed at the trollings and they basked in the glow of her approval the same way I always did. 

_That’s my Sunshine._

Fern tugged on my free hand. “What’s your name?” 

“Branch.”

“Oh. Hi! You’re a good teacher, Uncle Branch. I like you.”

“Um, thank you, Fern. I like you, too.” Over her head I mouthed at Poppy, ‘Uncle Branch’?

“Aww…” Poppy had that ‘Branch is being adorable’ look on her face, which usually meant I was involved in something embarrassing, but somehow I couldn’t bring myself to mind.

Fern announced, “I’m gonna have a new baby brother or sister soon, and I’m gonna teach them everything you showed me, Uncle Branch!”

_Well, that news explains why Hickory looks so stressed out_. “That’s very good, Fern, but you need to listen to your big brother, too. He’s a good boy to help your mom and dad take care of you and Whimsy, isn’t he?”

“Yes!” Fern exclaimed happily, and hugged her brother around the waist. 

He put his arms around her, gazing down at the top of her head and smiling, and then looked up at me. “Thank you.”

I knelt on the grass in front of her. “So, Fern, will you remember to do what Hickory asks you to do?”

“Yup,” she said agreeably, and transferred her hug to me and Whimsy. I embraced her warmly, marveling at how small she was. My big hand easily covered her entire back. Again I imagined being able to hold a trolling of my own like her, and welcomed the tender ripples of tenderness, comfort, and hope that flowed over me at the idea.

The remaining trolls around us ‘Aww’d’ along with Poppy. 

_Doesn’t take much to move us trolls, does it?_ I thought with amusement. _Me included._ I didn’t object to the non-Hug Time hug. Exceptions were made for very young trollings, of course.

“Okay, Fern, we’d better be going. Nana and Pop-pop will be wondering what’s taking us so long,” Hickory said, and I handed Whimsy back to his brother. The trollings began to walk away, and at the edge of the green they turned and waved.

“Thank you again for saving her, Uncle Branch.” 

“Bye, Uncle Branch!”

“Why are they calling me their uncle…?” I wondered under my breath.

As I stood up and turned to look at Poppy I saw her give the thumb’s-up signal to someone in the crowd, but when I looked back I couldn’t tell who it had been. Most of the gathered trolls were leaving, including our friends and the trolls I’d recognized who had been part of the class I’d taught earlier that week. None of them were behaving suspiciously, but my instincts told me that Poppy’s extended absence was noteworthy.

_She was gone a lot longer than it should have taken her to grab some snacks and visit Mandy Sparkledust._ I turned back to Poppy. _I don’t see the candy apples, and it’s unlikely that she’d try to carry something that sticky in her hair. She’s not wearing her Hug Time bracelet, either..._

__“Poppy, where’s your bracelet? And who were you signaling to?”

She looked away. “Um, nobody. And I needed some work done on my bracelet, so I left it with Mandy. So, did you have a nice chat with the Whizbangs?”

_Something’s going on here, and since she hasn’t tried to rope me into it, it probably involves me._ Not that every idea of Poppy’s was bad, but they had a tendency to escalate into projects of ridiculous proportions that sometimes got out of control, and then it’d be up to me to fix the mess.

“I know what you’re doing. This is a distraction, isn’t it? You’re planning something again, aren’t you?” I asked flatly.

“No,” she replied, but I heard the denial in her denial. I crossed my arms and waited.

“…Yes.”

I rolled my eyes and smirked at her. Like the Whizbangs said, most trolls can’t keep a secret. Not when someone flat-out asks them, anyway.

She clasped her hands together. “Branch, please don’t ask me to talk about it. I want it to be a surprise.”

“Poppy, your surprises are-”

“I _know_ you’ll like this one, Branch. You really will.” My pretty girl came up to me and put a hand on mine, smiling up at me.

I held out against her sincere gaze for about five seconds before I growled and relented. “Fine. It’s just that you _know_ how I hate to be kept in the dark.”

“Well, there _is_ something you should know, Branch. It’s about our-” She caught herself and glanced around at the dozens of trolls roaming the festival and said lamely, “Uhhhh, that thing I asked you to do for me this morning?” 

My mind flashed backward over the morning’s events: my arms around her as we rode the slide together, Poppy brushing my hair, her holding me while we were cozily wrapped within her hair, and the reason I’d needed to be held-

“Oh, right. That thing, uh- _” We really need a code word or something so we can talk about our relationship in public. Which reminds me-_

“I told someone,” we said simultaneously. 

Both of us blinked and spoke again. “Already?”

“They asked me,” we answered.

“Oh,” we responded.

I lifted an eyebrow and gave her a wry smile. “Well, _that_ didn’t take long.” _So much for keeping this a secret._ “So when should I expect the horde to descend on us?”

“Actually, I think it’ll be all right. They were very understanding.” Poppy’s cheerful smile seemed genuine.

“Huh.” I was mildly surprised, but then, as I well knew, Poppy could be very persuasive. “Well, ‘they’ promised to try to keep a lid on it, too,” I reported, following Poppy’s lead and not mentioning names. “I’m not sure how long it will last, though. We’ll just have to see how it goes.” 

We started walking, but something else was nudging the back of my brain. “So where’s the candy apples you promised Finetune and Savvy?”

She slapped her forehead. “Ooo, sorry, I forgot. I dropped them when you called for me. We’d better go get-”

I held up a hand, giving her a smug look. “Already did that. You’re covered.”

Poppy gave me a grateful smile. “Thanks, Branch.”

As we wove our way through the bustling Beadfest, I found my thoughts turning inward as I something Poppy had said echoed in my head. _‘You called for me.’ A year ago, it would never have occurred to me to turn to someone else for help. I hadn’t realized just how much I’ve really changed, to instinctively expect someone else to be there when I need them._

__I didn’t know if that should bother me or not. __

_And I didn’t just call for help; I called for_ Poppy. _Would’ve made more sense to shout for one of the village doctors if I thought someone had been hurt. So what does that say about me?_

__I laced my fingers behind my head and contemplated the girl of my dreams as she merrily skipped along ahead of me, humming some happy little tune. The image of an earnest, brave, determined princess with a heart big enough to include bergens and even a certain rough, rebellious loner rose before my eyes, bringing a wide, contented smile to my face. _It says that not only did she win my heart; she’s earned my trust. Completely._ It said something that I could admit that to myself without a single twinge of misgiving.

Just then Poppy turned and saw that I’d lagged behind. She came right back to me, her steps as light as a fairy sprite’s, and held out a hand. “You know, all this talk about candy apples is making me hungry. Want to go get some?”

I gazed at her bright pink hand which was offering so much more than mere food: companionship, love and support, and enough stubborn optimism to bolster me when mine faltered and I took it gratefully in mine, not caring if the entire village jumped to the right conclusion. 

“Wherever you lead, Sunshine, I’ll gladly follow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of my headcanons is that Branch as a trolling had a very hard time trusting anyone, as we will see in the next chapter, and to realize that his trust in Poppy is real and unshakeable is a huge step forward for him. He’s still healing. Twenty years of being gray and emotionally unstable don’t just go away overnight. As Poppy is beginning to recognize, some parts of him will never change. But some will, for the better.


	10. The Bad Old Days

As I strolled along with my sweetheart’s warm little hand in mine, I heard the twins stridently announcing a new fashion line, something involving beads, and the nearby trolls’ enraptured _ooos_ and _ahhhs_ as a crowd gathered nearby.

Poppy gave me one of her cheery smiles and asked, “So how _did_ your chat with the Whizbangs go?”

“It…went well, actually.” I paused for a moment to mull the encounter over. “I hadn’t realized how much I’ve missed them. And it seems like they missed me, too. Felt kinda nice.”

“I’m really happy for you, Branch.” She squeezed my hand gently and added, “I never knew you were so good with trollings, either.”

“Well, I wasn’t always a recluse, you know. I had a life before the bunker.” 

“So why not renew more of your ties, now that you’ve decided to rejoin society?”

I shook my head, waving my free hand dismissively in the air. “Nah, it’s too late. It’s been ten years; they’ve all moved on. It would probably just stir up a lot of old bad feelings. Besides…” 

“What bad feelings?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“But wouldn’t you like to-”

I stopped and turned to face her. “Listen, Poppy, thanks for the concern, but I don’t want to look back. I’ve finally put it all behind me, made a fresh start.”

“But, Branch-”

“Poppy, please. It’s fine,” I said gently, reaching out to cup her face with my other hand. _“I’m_ fine. I am so, so happy now, Sunshine. I have our friends…and I have you.” I stroked her cheek tenderly, softening my gaze and giving her a loving smile so she would know I truly meant everything I was saying. “And that’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

Concerned rose-colored eyes studied me and I saw a worry-line between her eyes that I’d never noticed before. Then the breeze swept a few strands of her brilliant hair across her cheek near her eye and I smoothed them away. Her hand came up to cover mine and her face relaxed into a smile that eased away the line as she finally accepted my response. “Look at you… You really are getting the hang of the whole ‘being happy’ thing, aren’t you?”

I gave her my most charming smile, wiggling my eyebrows playfully. “Hey, better late than never, right?”

Poppy chuckled. “Well, practice makes perfect. And trust me, I’m gonna make sure that you get _lots_ of practice.”

I grinned. “Trust you, eh?” As we began walking again, I couldn’t help but see the irony in her choice of words to the troll who’d once been the most troublesome trolling in Troll Village. 

-O-

_Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me._

__When I was a very young trolling I lost both my parents on the same terrible Trollstice. And then not a month later when a hunting bergen female got Grandma, not long after she’d told me that she would always be there for me, I felt like the biggest fool of all to have believed her.

Although I was not yet six years old, I decided then that it was useless to rely on other trolls for anything. _Can’t trust anybody._ They meant well, but they just didn’t have the power to keep their own promises. 

Still, they kept trying. “Don’t you get it?” I’d demanded coldly of one bewildered foster-father. “It won’t be ‘all right’. It’s _never_ gonna be all right. King Peppy’s plan to escape prob’ly won’t even work, an’ we’ll all just keep gettin’ gobbled up ‘til there’s nobody left!”

The poor troll had burst into tears, and so had the rest of his family. Soon after, I was asked to go and stay with another family. This became a common pattern over the next few years. I didn’t want to cause problems, but I just couldn’t understand how easily the other trolls seemed able to put our horrible past behind them and move on, as if there were no threats left. Sure, we escaped, but the bergens were still out there, and I knew they would be looking for us. 

There were lots of other dangers; predators, illness from lack of shelter and poisonous plants and animals, starvation. It took time to establish farms that could grow enough food to feed the one hundred and twelve trolls who’d escaped, and in the meantime we lived hand-to-mouth with whatever we could find in the local forest and lake. I often went to bed hungry, when I had a bed at all.

There were several other trollings who’d lost parents. All of them were soon happily settled into new homes with their relatives in what would become Troll Village, but not me. I had lost my entire family. I became a sort of general ward of the village, because no matter who I lived with I was never happy, and I stirred up a lot of _un_ happiness for the trolls who shared their homes with me.

At first the king had put me with families that had other trollings, thinking that I’d be less lonely, but that backfired. Trollings had less patience with my behavior, which could range from fretful and demanding to irritated and sarcastic many times over the course of a day, and they weren’t as tactful about letting me know it.

“Oh, Branch. Why can’t you just be happy?” many of them had asked with varying degrees of concern and frustration. “I know things used to be bad, but they’re not now, so why not at least _try_ to be happy?”

“‘Cause things only _look_ good right now, but they’re not,” I’d say impatiently. “We have to be alert. The bergens are coming to get us, I _know_ it.”

“I don’t want them to come here!” one of them would yell in alarm. Sometimes someone would start to wail, or cover their ears to keep from hearing any more.

“Wake up!” I’d yell, infuriated at their blatant avoidance.

“No! I don’t want to hear anymore! Mommy! Daddy!”

“Sure, call for them,” I’d say scornfully. “They can’t help.”

“Then what do you want us to do?” one of the older trollings would sometimes ask. “Is there anything _we_ can do?”

Somehow I never expected that question and my belligerent shield would fall away, leaving me feeling naked and shaking and helpless once again. “I – I don’t know. Just _something!”_

“Well, when you think of something, let me know,” he or she would say kindly. “Until then, why don’t you try to have some fun with us for a while?”

Tears would sting my eyes. My constant anxiety would never let me truly relax, and I just couldn’t bring myself to trust the judgement of those trolls who could. Sometimes I was able to push down my fears enough to join in their games, but other times it would all be too much and I’d run off, crying, which would deeply upset the other trollings. 

I didn’t want reassurances; I wanted help. I wanted action! _Anything’s better than just sittin’ here waitin’ for them to come get us!_

__I think the mistake was putting me with the happiest families, hoping it would rub off on me, but I guess it’s easier to spread doom and gloom. Sometimes an adult would come upon a whole group of weeping trollings, initially looking at me with bewilderment, and as time passed, with exhaustion.

Eventually, when I was about eight, they tried placing me with couples without trollings, hoping that if I had their undivided attention that they could get through to me. In some ways it was better, with no little trollings whose games I had to put up with or avoid, but in others, it was worse. The first few couples they tried were young and confident and looking forward to building a new life in our growing village. Even moreso than the other families, they wanted me to put the past behind me and move forward. 

By this time I was tired of being moved around like the ball at a buzzyball tournament, so I did my best to be cooperative. “All right, I’ll be happy. Once we’re safe.” That seemed like a reasonable compromise to me.

No matter how kind they were, they never seemed to understand.

“But, Branchie, we _are_ safe. We have a chance to start fresh here. Can’t you try to leave the bad things in the past?”

I would try to explain. “I…I try to be happy, I really do, but I just don’t feel safe.”

Like good trolls, my foster parents would try to respect my feelings and accommodate my needs. “Well, what do you want us to do to make you feel safer?”

But as always, the question would frustrate and upset me. “I don’t _know!_ ” I would say scornfully.“I’m just a little trolling – _you’re_ the adults! _You’re_ supposed to protect _me!”_

__“Protect you from what? I’m sorry, Branchie, but no one’s seen a single sign of the bergens in almost three years. And we _are_ careful. King Peppy has mandated that no one is to use fireworks or really loud music or do anything that might draw their attention. Isn’t that enough?”

“Nah, that just means it’ll take ‘em longer to find us. But they will. Someday. And when they do, we’ve gotta be ready.”

“Um, okay… How?”

I would growl and roll my eyes. “What is _wrong_ with you? I just said I don’t know. Are you stupid?”

They and any other troll in hearing range would gasp. Insulting other trolls was a _huge_ no-no. It usually only happened by accident, even among very young trolls, and there was always lots of hugging and apologizing on both sides afterward. I was the only troll in the village who deliberately said unkind things meant to hurt.

Usually, at this point my foster-parents would back off. Sometimes they would try to talk me into apologizing, some just began to cry and a few would try to discipline me with the most negative action most trolls could contemplate. “Branchie, please go to your room and think about what you’ve done, and come find us when you’re ready to say you’re sorry.”

Isolation from other trolls was considered an awful thing. In fact, shunning the company of a troll was exceptionally effective in stopping the few quarrels that did occur. But I had discovered that even though my anxiety was worse when I was by myself, being alone was also oddly peaceful, especially if I read or worked on some kind of project that prevented me from thinking much. 

When I could concentrate, that was. My peaceful feeling didn’t usually last long when it was really just a thin bandage over the guilt that gnawed at me like a bergen’s teeth after I said something mean. Deep down I knew no one deserved to hear the harsh things I often said to try to convince them of the danger out there, or failing that, to get them to leave me alone. It was the bergens’ fault, not theirs.

As trying at those times were, they were the relatively stable times in my life. Times when I was able to go to school and do my work and feel relatively tolerant of my classmates’ happy antics. I also liked to help in the gardens and gather firewood at the edge of the forest while watching for predators and bergens. Just normal stuff.

The bad times were often triggered by dates, like September 17th – Trollstice – or the anniversaries of my parents’ and Grandma’s deaths. Even birthdays would bring back disturbing feelings - any birthdays - mine, my original family’s, or those of other trolls.

Other times the trigger was due to someone scraping at the raw edges of a wound that never seemed to heal. My whole family was _gone._ No amount of wishing or screaming or crying would ever bring them back to me! And it was _my fault!_ If I hadn’t been singing out in the open, I’d still have Grandma at least. The rush of love I’d felt for her that day, the love that had made we want to serenade the one who loved me more than anything in the world had led to her death! 

_Stupid **love!** It made me relax, even though I **knew** there could be bergens lurking, ready to grab and bite and chew and… and…_

__Sometimes I got myself so worked up that I threw up. My foster parents would put me to bed and sit beside me while I cried, but when they tried to hug me I twisted and thrashed as if the touch of their hands burned me. _“No!_ Don’t touch me! Don’t love me! It hurts too much!”

Caring for others and having them care for you gives a sense of comfort and security that has nothing to do with physical safety. I wanted that comfort. I craved that comfort so badly at times I felt I would lose my grip on myself and fly to pieces, but I also feared it. No matter how much I wanted to, I could never bring myself to take the hand that offered it, for I knew it to be false comfort, and I no longer trusted it. Besides, whenever I did manage to let myself relax a little, my guilt would punish me for it later. 

I knew it hurt others when I shut them out, but that only made me feel even more guilty, which meant more meltdowns, and more guilt, in a never-ending cycle. The only way I could cope was to lock away as much of it as I could, as deeply as I could, but sooner or later someone would begin asking the questions I really, really didn’t want to answer.

“It’s almost like you don’t _want_ to be happy. Is there something bothering you?”

I would clam up, avoiding their gaze and clenching my fists at my sides, feeling the scab over the wound deep inside me begin to tear away. Sometimes they took the hint, but other times, they kept prodding me until I couldn’t bear it any more.

“You know, you never talk about your family, but I’m sure they loved you. Wouldn’t they want you to be happy?” 

A terrified female scream would echo in my head and the last shred of control over myself would shatter. I’d burst into tears, or smash something. If they tried to hug me I’d scream and struggle until I broke away, running and running until I collapsed. Curled into the tight black cocoon of my hair, sweating and shaking and weeping bitter tears, chaotic thoughts roared through my head.

_Why am I like this? I hate it! I don’t wanna hurt people, but I can’t help it! Don’t they understand, I **do** wanna be happy! But I don’t dare… I wish… Oh, Mama…why did you have to leave me? Daddy, help me! Grandma? Grandma, you’d understand. Tell them **they’re** the wrong ones, not me! There is **too** danger! We gotta watch out, right? We can’t ever let our guard down. Don’t they see, that’s what the bergens want? The minute we relax – **that’s** when they’ll get us! We’re not safe here – we’re not safe **anywhere!**_

_****_Over time that mantra solidified into my core belief: Safety First. It gave me a purpose; something I could focus on when my anxiety ran high, a reason I could fall back on whenever someone wanted me to ‘be happy’.

“Happiness is not as important as safety!” I would retort, brushing aside any nosy questions.

That usually stopped any further protests. At the time, I’d believed it was because they knew I was right and didn’t want to admit it, but now I think it was because they couldn’t find the words to explain what they instinctively felt: that a life without happiness wasn’t worth living. That they’d face danger when it came, but wouldn’t live their lives so focused on safety that they forgot to live. That to enjoy life to the fullest, you had to take risks now and then.

Just as I had, to protect the person who mattered most to me. For Poppy, I would risk anything. But I didn’t understand that then.

-O-

What I had subconsciously wanted as a trolling was to learn how to fight, but I’d had no words to describe what I felt was missing. In a society that strongly discouraged all forms of strife by emphasizing harmony and fellow-feeling, even the concept of deliberate violence against another was almost inconceivable. Learning to physically protect myself and others might have helped to alleviate my anxiety and make me feel more secure, but I had had no one to teach me. As an adult I had taught myself, by observing forest predators and adapting sports and dance moves.

Thinking about the bad old days was a little unsettling. Suddenly I realized I wanted some comfort food, and I knew just where to get it. “You know what; forget the candy apples. Poppy, do you mind if we go hit that chocolate stand?”

Poppy’s eyes lit up. “Ooo, chocolate. Good choice.”

As we made our way to the chocolate stand, my mind wandered back to the past.

-O-

Unlike the other trollings, I spent much of my childhood alone. Sometimes by choice, sometimes because I could tell I wasn’t wanted. Not that anyone would ever say that, but I had eyes. I could see the looks of relief on their faces when I said I had something else to do and turned to leave.

_I know you’re glad to see me go. Well, fine! I didn’t want to play with you anyway. It’s a waste of time. We oughta be doing something useful, something to keep us safe…_

__When I said that to the other trollings in my grade, they reminded me that the grown-ups had promised that we _were_ safe here and that the bergens would never find us. I would scoff, “And you believe their promises?”

“Well, we practice running and hiding when we play Bergen Attack,” someone would say appeasingly. “Isn’t that enough?”

“It’s a good start, but it’s not enough. Running and hiding wasn’t enough to keep them from eating us before, was it?”

As much as that upset them, they knew and I knew that I was right. That truth was what had inspired me to create a ‘game’ called Bergen Attack, where the trollings had to use their hair to disguise themselves. Or they would swing from trees and things, shrieking and squealing as they tried to escape the trolling who was playing the part of the bergen. Usually, that was me. Sometimes – okay, most of the time - I got carried away and would act so fearsome I would genuinely terrify the other trollings, most of whom could remember actually running from real bergens, and the game would sometimes end in tears. 

The last time I ever played Bergen Attack was also the end of the last tenuous link I’d had with my age-mates. The day Princess Poppy, then six years old to my almost-ten, asked to play Bergen Attack with us. All of her friends were busy with other things, and she happened to see us swing by her pod window and impulsively decided to join us. 

Since she was a grade below me in school I didn’t really know her; most of her friends were those from her own grade, ages 4-6, plus a couple in my own grade, like Biggie, who had become part of her circle of friends before they’d advanced to my grade. 

I had once lived with Biggie’s family for a short time, but with their gentle natures and my confrontational personality it hadn’t taken long to upset the lot of them and I’d been asked to move on. I’d ended up at the twins’ pod, but that had been an even shorter stay, as I couldn’t handle getting caught up in their constant bickering and that time _I’d_ been the one asking to move.

After four years, the other trollings in my grade had become used to how I’d changed from the somewhat timid trolling I used to be before I’d lost my Grandma. They knew how touchy I could be, how far they could tease me, and what triggers were likely to set me off, but no one thought to tell little Poppy.

Playing the part of the evil bergen, I chased the other trollings for quite a while, pounding after them on the ground as they swooped and flipped through the air. I couldn’t use my hair to travel, since the bergens’ strange hair didn’t move on its own, but one of the rules of the game was that I _could_ use it as a giant arm and hand to reach far above my head. 

In turn, they couldn’t use their hair to move too high into the trees, out of my reach, since the point of the game was to train for the day we inevitably got captured. I had made sure to carefully explain how the game worked to the princess, and she’d promised to follow all the rules.

First we practiced camouflaging ourselves with our hair to look like part of the landscape. It took some time for the princess to figure it out, and she wasn’t perfect at it, but for a first-timer she wasn’t bad. When I called a halt to take a break, the others gathered around the princess and praised her lavishly.

“You were wonderful!”

“I didn’t even know you were there!”

“You’re so smart!”

The princess swayed from side to side in pleasure, her hands on her cheeks. “Thank you!” Then she turned to me with a hopeful, expectant expression. “Did I do okay?”

I gave her an honest answer. “Well, if I was a bergen, you’d be eaten by now. I saw you almost every time.”

The other trolls groaned and Poppy's face fell. 

“Braanch!” someone whispered. Several of them gave me significant looks, and after a puzzled moment I caught on to their social cues and added, “Oh. Uh, but you did fool me a couple of times. That’s pretty good for a newbie.” I hesitated, then added some words of encouragement like they were always teaching us to do in school. “I’m sure you’ll get better if you keep trying.”

Poppy's face brightened and she pranced around me. “I will! I’ll practice real hard. Let’s play some more!”

I nodded approvingly. “You’re a hard worker; I like that. Good girl.”

The pink trolling threw her hands into the air. “Yay! Branch praised me!”

As she dashed off again, I couldn’t help but smile a little.

Next we practiced running and escaping skills. As usual, I played the part of the big scary bergen. Keeping up with hair-hurtling quarry with a troll’s short legs was a difficult task, but I never let up, using the same grim determination that drove my own inner demons. 

When a flash of pink flew by I set my sights on the little princess, relentlessly pursuing her until I managed to trap her with her back to a giant nettle bush; something she couldn’t grab onto, not even with her hair, unless she wanted to wind up picking stinging nettles out of her hair the rest of the day.

“Now I’ve got you, my tasty little troll,” I said in a raspy, growly voice, baring my teeth menacingly. “You can’t escape me, ah-hah-hah!”

As a newcomer, I expected her to freeze in terror, but instead she piped up, “Wow, you’re really good at this!”

I blinked, still panting heavily after the chase she’d led me on. “Good at what?”

She beamed at me. “You’re so good at being a bergen you could almost be one yourself!”

White-hot lightning blasted from my head to my toes, igniting the adrenaline already in my system into a ball of flame. _“What?”_ I shrieked. “Don’t you say that; _don’t you ever compare me to them!”_

_Slap!_

__I heard the other trollings gasp. My hand stung. I watched the little princess cover her cheek as tears filled her eyes, and my rage flipped instantly to icy cold horror.

Shakily, I stammered, “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it!”

I couldn’t bear to see their shocked faces staring at me. I took off, running as hard as I could, but I couldn’t run hard enough to leave my shame behind. What had I done? I’d _hit_ her! Hit a helpless little trolling! What kind of troll was I? _She was right. I_ am _like them. I’m a monster. A terrible monster!_

__I stayed out all day, wandering aimlessly at the edges of troll territory and hiding whenever I saw another troll. They were looking for me, calling my name, but I couldn’t bring myself to respond. I was too miserable and sick with shame to face anyone.

_She wasn’t trying to insult me,_ I realized bleakly. _She probably doesn’t even know what they’re like; she was just trying to praise me like I did her. And I turned around and hit her! I’m the worst troll who ever lived._

__When I finally returned well after dark, hungry and cold, my foster parents told me King Peppy wanted to see me in the morning. My stomach roiled with nausea and I could barely swallow a few bites of the food they gave me. I spent most of the night agitatedly pacing in my alcove, wishing I were anywhere but here.

_Grandma, that bergen should have taken me, not you. I hit Poppy. I hurt everyone around me. What if they all shun me from now on? Maybe they should. Maybe I shouldn’t be here. What if King Peppy tells me I have to leave the village? Where will I go? Who will take care of me?_

__I sat on my bed and put my face in my hands, noticing the sting on one cheek from a scratch I’d gotten earlier when I was hiding in the trees. _I guess I’ll have to live in the forest, like the monster I am. I deserve it. And I’ll just have to take care of myself. I should anyway. The only person I can rely on is me._

__I packed my backpack with my most important possessions, knowing I wouldn’t be back, and sat for long hours in the dark, awaiting my fate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since we know from the movie that Branch had presumably never told anyone the exact circumstances of how his grandma died, even though trolls are generally very open about their feelings, I decided that Branch probably assumed that no other trolls feel the kind of guilt he experiences as he is growing up. Naturally he would assume ‘no one could possibly understand or forgive me’, or that opening up and talking about it would be the release he needed to begin the healing process. Which it did, as we see a rather dramatic personality change take place in our favorite aquamarine troll almost immediately afterward.
> 
> I base my characters’ ages on the fact that we know for sure that Poppy is over twenty years old, and Branch is presumably several years older. Also, someone at Dreamworks posted a Zodiac chart on Tumblr with Dreamworks characters on it, which may or may not be official, but it has Poppy as a Virgo (August 23 – September 22) whose main trait is Service, and Branch as a Capricorn (December 22 – January 19) and his main trait is Achievement. 
> 
> So I chose August 25th for Poppy and January 15th for Branch, since a January-garnet birthstone is associated with loyalty and protection, which is so Branch! and an August-peridot birthstone for Poppy is associated with confidence, healing (both physically and mentally) and protection from nightmares. I liked the idea that Poppy is Branch’s personal teddy bear, haha!
> 
> So that means since Trollstice is September 17th in the movie, adult Poppy had probably just turned 22. Branch would have been 25 ¾. I decided that baby Poppy had just turned 2 and that Branch was about 5 ¾ years old when they escaped the bergens. That would make Branch 3 ¾ years older than Poppy. So in my fic, which is set about 6 months after the events in the movie, Poppy is 22 ½ and Branch is 26 ¼.


	11. A Special New Friend

My dark thoughts were interrupted by the _pings_ of many Hug Time bracelets flowering, their delicate chimes weaving a lovely melody in the air that was welcomed by everyone who heard it, even me. Today every Hug Time would be precious to me, since it meant I could hold Poppy close and no one would think twice about it.

Poppy came into my arms in a moment, squeezing me tightly as if it had been years since we last hugged instead of an hour. _Wait, did she hug me last time? I know Tuney and Savvy did, but…_

“I missed you,” she whispered, nuzzling the side of my neck. I knew she meant she missed being close to me.

Without caring about how it might look I brought one hand up and cupped the back of her head, sliding my fingers into her silky hair. “Missed you, too.” 

How strange and wonderful a thing it was to feel so close to someone! I felt a sudden impulse to kiss the pink ear in front of my face and barely stopped myself. _Poppy, you’re too cute. I’m starting to regret asking her to hold off on our first kiss until our official date. Still, the longer the wait, the sweeter the prize._

“And you’re a prize worth waiting for,” I murmured into her ear. “An irreplaceable treasure more precious than the entire inventory of my bunker.” 

She made a cute sound of pleasure, sliding her hands up my back and pressing herself up into me. I closed my eyes for a moment, savoring her warmth and her sweet scent all around me. 

Eventually some nearby sound made me open my eyes to see several trolls looking at us curiously. Nobody was hugging anymore. I loosened my grasp, but Poppy clung to me for a long moment before letting go with a reluctance that had to be obvious to anyone watching.

I cleared my throat. “So, what were we doing again?”

“Chocolate.”

“Oh, yes.”

-O-

When morning finally arrived, my foster parents took me to King Peppy's pod. As I stood with shaky knees in front of the larger-than-life hero who had led our triumphant escape from the bergens, the king said in a surprisingly conversational tone, “Well, my boy, yesterday was a bit of a mess, wasn’t it? I’ve been speaking with my daughter and the other trollings about what happened, and now I’d like to hear your side.”

My jaw was so tense I didn’t trust myself to speak, so I jerkily shook my head, trying to suppress a nervous shudder. There was no excuse for what I’d done anyway. I saw the king glance down and realized my hands were shaking, so I hid them behind my back.

His bushy eyebrows rose, and for a moment I thought I saw his face soften. “Are you sure you don’t want to say anything?”

I nodded.

“All right, then. I’ve also spoken with those trolls who have taken care of you over the past four years. Your current foster parents tell me you seem to have an overabundance of ah, shall we say, nervous energy. Would you say this was the case?”

_Nervous energy?_ I guessed I did, but I didn’t understand why he was talking about something like that instead of just getting down to business. _Why doesn’t he just banish me and get this over with?_

He was waiting patiently for my answer, so I nodded, mostly to hurry things along so I could get out of there.

The king went to the door and made a ‘come in’ gesture. As two male trolls entered, he turned to me. “Do you know these trolls?”

I perked up, interested in spite of my disgraced state. One of the trolls was Jaunty, a bright-magenta glitter troll with hair and nose of the same aqua hue, and the other was his husband Courtley, who had light purple skin, dark purple hair and a medium-purple nose. My tongue unfroze. “You’re two of the best athletes in the village.”

King Peppy nodded. “Right you are, my boy. You'll be living with Jaunty and Courtley from now on.”

I gave the three grown-ups a wary, confused look. _Another new home?_

I’d lived with glitter trolls before, of course. Their sparkly skin and foofy glitter farts left soft little flakes everywhere. It was kind of messy, but being organic, at least they were biodegradable. If not sealed with some kind of shellac within a week or so they dissolved into dust. I was used to doing a lot of dusting and sweeping because of that, so it wasn’t a big deal to me. I was more concerned about what King Peppy was going to say about what I had done to his daughter.

_Isn’t he going to make me leave the village? If I were King Peppy, I wouldn’t forgive me._

__To test the waters, I said cautiously, “Really?”

“You bet,” Jaunty answered.

“Glad to have you, lad.” Courtley grinned at me. He spoke with an accent similar to Biggie’s, but with broader-sounding vowels and a sing-songy up-and-down lilt. “King Peppy asked us to try and help you channel all that energy more positively.”

“Oh.” I waited, biting my lip, sure that there had to be something more, but they all just looked at me, smiling, until finally I couldn’t stand it anymore. 

In a tiny voice I asked, “So you aren’t going to ask me to leave the village because I hit Princess Poppy?” As I said it I winced. It sounded so horrible. So bergen-like. 

“Of course not!” came a high-pitched voice from nowhere and I jumped, literally, flipping in the air and grabbing hold of the ceiling lamp with my hair. “Who’s there?” I demanded as I swung lightly from the lamp.

From the King's magenta mane, a little pink head appeared. “Princess Poppy?” I gasped. I hadn’t expected to see her here. She leaped down from her father’s hair and I loosened my hold and dropped down in front of her, reaching for her face. She flinched and took a wary step back. Shame burned through me, forcing my already low ears even lower.

“I’m not gonna hurt you,” I promised, trying to sound reassuring. “I just wanna look at your face.” 

Big pink eyes looked up at me and on impulse I knelt in front of her. She nodded. “Okay.”

I took her face in my hands, gently tilting it so I could see where I’d struck her. It wasn’t swollen, but I couldn’t tell if the dark rose color was a handprint or just her normal cheek-blush color. “Does it hurt?”

“No.”

I let her go and we stared at each other.

“I’m sorry!” we said at the same time.

I blinked. “Why are _you_ sorry? I’m the awful troll who hit you!”

“I’m sorry ‘cause I hurt your feelings. I wasn’t thinkin’ about how you felt when I called you…the bad name.”

“Bergen.”

“Yeah. I didn’t mean it! You’re not like them at all!”

I hung my head. “Yeah, I am. I’m a mean old bergen-troll and I deserve to be banished from the village.”

“No!” 

Suddenly her arms were around me, squeezing me so tight I was reminded of the way my father used to hug me, using too much strength and accidentally squishing me because he loved me so much. Poppy was hugging me with all her might. It was a good thing she was only six years old. 

And then I found myself hugging her back, the first hug I’d felt like giving in forever. It felt unexpectedly good. “I promise, Poppy, I will never, never do that again. Ever!” My voice cracked and I felt the tears start, too overcome with relief and gratitude to hold it all in. I managed to keep from wailing aloud, but I couldn’t hide how my body shook with silent sobs, or the hiss of air through my tightly-clenched teeth.

“Branch?” Poppy sounded confused. “What are you doing?”

“Oh, just crying…” I pulled in a shaky breath, trying to collect myself so as not to upset her. “I do that sometimes. It’s no big deal.”

“Oh, Branch…” Somehow her hug changed, became softer and warmer, more of a cuddle than a hug. “It’s okay, Branch,” she said in a motherly tone. “It’s all right…. I forgive you. Do you forgive me?”

“Y-yeah.”

Now that we’d worked things out between us, big strong arms closed around me as the three grown-ups offered their comfort, too. And just this once, I let them. I was too exhausted to keep fighting right now. 

Their body warmth began to make me feel sleepy, and the tight inner coil inside me began to ease like it hadn’t in a long, long time. I couldn’t help but give in to the release, longing so badly for the remembered feeling of being warm and protected and loved, like when I was little. I snuggled deeper into the hug and took the first full, deep breath I could remember since…I didn’t know when. 

Everyone continued to hold me, seeking comfort as well as giving it. Trolls, as I well knew, didn’t really know what to do with sadness except to try to make it go away, but right now they all seemed to accept what was going on and roll with it, wordlessly offering me their support. _They’re not the real enemy here…_ Somehow I’d forgotten that. A vague hint of guilt at how I’d treated everyone passed through my mind, but it couldn’t take hold as I felt my muscles relaxing, my eyes closing, my breathing deepening, and finally I let myself slip away into slumber.

-O-

When I opened my eyes, I was in an unfamiliar pod. Poppy lay on the floor by the bed, a half-finished scrapbook in front of her, contentedly using a little pair of scissors to snip away at a piece of felt. Dozens of brightly-colored leftover pieces lay scattered around her like flower petals in spring.

When I sat up, she looked up at me and beamed. “Hi, Branch! Boy, you sure sleeped a long time.”

“Huh?”

“You fell asleep when we were all hugging. Daddy said we should let you sleep, ‘cause you were super tired, so Jaunty and Courtley took you home and got your stuff from your old pod. I helped!”

I rubbed my eyes and yawned, not minding her perky chatter now that I’d had what felt like a good long rest. “An’ now I’m makin’ you a scrapbook so you won’t be lonely. See, it has me in it, and you, and Daddy, and Courtley and Jaunty. You sleeped all day, you know that?”

“Slept,” I corrected automatically.

“Slept,” Poppy repeated dutifully. 

“I slept all day?”

“Yup, all day.”

Suddenly I was starvingly hungry. My belly growled, and Poppy glanced at me with wide eyes and then fell over, giggling merrily. I felt a wry smile turn up the corner of my mouth.

“So, um… Is there anything to eat?”

“Perfect timing, dude.” Jaunty’s cheerful voice came from what looked like a kitchen alcove. “Come and help us make supper.”

Poppy and I both helped prepare the meal. It turned out that she had asked her father if she could wait until I woke up before she went home, just in case I was still upset. After the way I had treated her, I couldn’t help but be touched. Most of my former foster siblings had been more leery of me, never knowing what sort of mood I might be in at any given moment, but Poppy treated me as naturally as if I were a real big brother to her.

It seemed I’d made a good impression on my newest foster parents, too.

Courtley said, “Well, I must say, Branch, Jaunty and I were really impressed by that forward flip you did.”

Jaunty added enthusiastically, _“Awesome_ reflexes, dude!”

I eyed them both. “Really?” 

“Absolutely, dude. You’ve gotta show _us_ how to do that one.”

“Yes, and we can’t wait to see your other moves.”

“Oh.” I was pleased at their praise, ignoring the ever-present cloud of melancholy that always hovered vaguely in the back of my mind. “Um, sure.”

Poppy beamed at me and tugged on my hand. “Come on, Branch. Show me, too!”

I smiled down at her. “Not right now. You need to be getting home. It’s gonna be dark soon.”

“Aw, please, Branch?” She gave me the big puppy-dog eyes, her lower lip sticking out, and I hesitated. I couldn’t just tell her to go home like a stray pet.

Jaunty saw my dilemma and jumped in to help me. “He’s right, little lady. How about you come back tomorrow? I’m sure Branch will be glad to see you.” He turned to give me a significant look. “Right, Branch, my man?”

It took me a second to catch on. I wasn’t the best at reading social cues. “Oh. Uh, yeah. Um, how about I walk you home now?”

“Why?”

“So nothing happens to you,” I said in surprise.

“What could happen to me?”

I opened my mouth, then closed it. _She believes the village is safe._ I sighed. _I really don’t feel like getting into all that right now._

Courtley met my gaze, then said, “I think it’s just Branch’s way of showing you he cares.”

“Oh!” Poppy brightened. “Well, that’s nice. I care about you, too, Branch.”

She let go of my hand to go collect her scrapbooking things. I watched her for a moment, a soft smile gentling my face before I saw Courtley and Jaunty watching me and pulled the corners of my lips down. I braced myself, expecting one of them to say something about how I was wrong; that there was no danger and that I was wasting my time worrying when I could be doing something fun instead.

Instead they gave me matching mellow smiles. “Have a nice walk, dude.”

_Huh. Maybe living with them won’t be that bad._

-O-

It wasn’t bad at all. I liked Jaunty and Courtley, although it was less a parent-child relationship and more of a coach-team camaraderie, which suited me just fine. I was far more comfortable playing sports than I was talking about my feelings. 

Also, I didn’t fight it any more when someone wanted to hug me. Instead I made myself go limp at the first touch, submitting to the embrace for as long as I could before squirming away. It was the best I could do to put on a semblance of acting like a normal troll.

Over the next two years, when I wasn’t in school, between the two of them Courtley and Jaunty did a good job of keeping me moving and too busy to brood. I generally fell asleep every night as soon as my head hit the pillow, sleeping too deeply even to dream, which meant I was more rested and had far fewer mood swings. And when I did get upset, I had better control over my actions. I never wanted to repeat what had happened to Poppy. 

The little princess seemed to have decided I needed a friend. She and I were in different grades so I didn’t see much of her at school, but once in a while she would stop by my pod and drop off an invitation to some party or event. With Jaunty and Courtley encouraging me I sometimes put in a brief appearance, if I was interested. I even kept some of the invitations. They were cute, and they reminded me of Poppy. I liked to look at them and wonder what kind of queen she would be someday. 

Maybe she would actually be interested in important things, things besides singing, dancing, hugging and other wastes of time. Maybe she would take the impending invasion of the bergens seriously. If I could convince her the threat was real, maybe I could actually trust her to help me prevent a catastrophe.

-O-

_And in the end, she did earn my trust. Even though to my frustration, I never was able to convince her that the bergens were a genuine threat, but I remember the camouflage game became pretty popular in the village; for pranks, if nothing else. When the bergens found us, most of the trolls were able to hide from them, just as I’d hoped._

_And then my beautiful princess went on to surpass every expectation I’d had of her, proving herself to be so brave and smart and compassionate, so determined to find a new way to solve the old problem I’d struggled with for so many years – and she succeeded. It’s no wonder she was able to bring out my colors. Poppy is the most amazing troll in the world…_

I came out of my reverie at the _scrkscrkscrk_ of scissors and the sight of Poppy flopped on her stomach on the ground, a rainbow of felt snippets scattered all around her, and experienced a moment of déjà vu. 

“Scrapbooking? Now?”

“Uh huh. Gotta scrapbook when the inspiration hits, Branch. Say, do me a favor and direct traffic around me, okay?”

“But-"

“You know you want to…” she said as enticingly as if she were offering me some wonderful treat. Well, in a way, she was.

I pulled in a breath to protest, then let it out with a sigh and a smile. _She knows me well._ I looked up at the backlog of trolls politely waiting for their queen to move and decided to give her a hard time anyway, on their behalf. 

“A favor, huh? So what do I get in return?”

Her reply made me blush all the way to my ears, delivered in an unmistakably sultry tone with a coy glance up at me. “Well, that depends. What do you want?”

“Ooo-hoo…” Brightly-colored sheaves of hair whipped back and forth between us as the watching trolls caught wind of what was going on.

I slapped my forehead and moaned, “Poppy…” _What part of ‘low-key' does she not understand?_

__The watching trolls chuckled. __

__“It'll only take a minute,” Poppy said reassuringly. “I’m not doing an entire scrapbook; just a few pages.”

“Oh, really? That’s unusual.”

“It's a work in progress.”

She waited a moment, then asked me, “Aren’t you going to ask about it?”

I shrugged and gave her a knowing look. “I assume you’re scrapbooking anything to do with our unofficial da- I mean, anything to do with, uh, ‘ice cream'.”

“Ice cream?”

“Yeah, you know, the new _ice cream_ we were enjoying yesterday?”

Her eyes lit up as she caught on. “Ohhh, right. The wonderful _ice cream_ we…discovered we shared an interest in.” 

“Right. And I didn’t ask to ask to see your scrapbook yet because you’re going to insist on showing it to me when it's finished anyway.”

She grinned at me. “You know me so well.”

-O-

When Poppy looked up a few minutes later from her scrapbook-induced trance, she beheld her handsome boyfriend with his hair fashioned into an ingenious and elegant set of signal flags that changed colors to guide the approaching trolls and let them know when to stop and proceed. The young queen watched him for a minute, her affection for him a warm flutter in her belly. Her man was in his element, a big smile on his face, grooving to his own beat as he danced and swayed, happily creating order out of chaos.

It had taken her a long time to understand his sometimes contradictory nature. It was a mistake a lot of trolls made with Branch – she had, too – to focus on the way he complained and his tendency to worry over the little things, rather than on who he was at heart.

The darker the situation, the more Branch shone. Where other trolls panicked, there he was, steady and calm and prepared to deal with adversity, always ready with a plan of action or by making quick decisions on the fly. She remembered when they were trollings, how he had taken the initiative to create a game to help the trolls learn how to hide themselves from anything that might threaten them. Even though things had probably worked out for the best, if Branch had been there when Chef first attacked, she wondered if any of them would have been captured at all.

She had always looked up to him, had always known she admired him, but it hadn’t been until she’d had that dream that she’d finally realized that she was attracted to him, too. He’d always had a certain magnetism, an inner strength that drew her to him, but right now, looking up at him, his lithe, powerful form radiated such sheer sensuality that she was unaware her mouth was hanging open until she licked her lips and a drop of drool landed on her hand. 

_Oops._ Quickly she wiped her mouth on the back of her hand and gave her new scrapbook a quick glance to make sure none had gotten on it, then closed it and stuffed it into her hair. _Oh, he’s caught you good, Poppy girl! You’re completely under his spell._ She smiled to herself. _And you’re enjoying every minute of it._

__“So, Branch,” she said as she rose from the grass. “What’s your secret?”

“What?” All his hair flags turned red as he stopped dancing and gave her a delightfully guilty look. “Y-you want to know all my secrets?”

She couldn’t hold back a light laugh. “Eventually.” _He’s so much fun to tease!_ “But right now I just wanted to know: How do you manage to look so cool and so cute at the same time?”

His ears flicked back and he turned his face to the side, trying to hide his embarrassed smile, but his cute lavender cheeks gave away his pleasure at her compliment. “Poppy,” he said in mild reproof, but they both knew he didn’t mean it.

As the waiting trolls around them chuckled, he glanced at them, retracted his hair back to its normal shape, and made a sweeping motion with his hand. “Okay, people, move along now. Nothing to see here.”

She glanced up at his hair. “Hey, Branch. Forgetting something?”

“What? Oh.” The tips of his hair lengthened and fluffed outward. 

It struck her then that the aquamarine troll’s hair perfectly reflected his heart, which had once been like a flower bud, closed up to protect himself from being hurt, and now it was blooming as he bravely opened himself up to new experiences. Experiences like being in love. 

She thought about the way Branch always responded so strongly to her touch, as if all this time he had longed to have someone hold him and caress him and experienced a rush of love for him so powerful she had to close her eyes as the wave passed. 

Out of all the trolls in the village, this contrary, nonconformist, independent rebel had chosen to love her, to open himself up to her.

_Has he never truly cared for anyone else? Or let anyone care for him? I’m hoping so, I really, truly am…_

“I’m on to you, Poppy.”

“What?”

She opened her eyes to see him giving her a sly look. “Despite what you said, I think you actually _want_ to spread the news about our ice cream.”

“You have ice cream?” a random passing troll asked eagerly. Instantly every other troll in the area zeroed in on Branch.

Branch shook his head, nixing that notion with a wave of his hand. “No. No. It’s metaphorical.”

“Aww,” the watching trolls said disappointedly, and they began to wander off back into the Beadfest, past the tall mushroom where the twins’ fashion demo was winding down.

Poppy used her hair to rake up the remains of her scrapbooking project from the grass and drop it into a nearby trash can. “Well, _I_ think _you’re_ the one who’s enjoying keeping our special ice cream a secret.”

He shrugged. “What can I say? I’m the mysterious troll of your dreams, remember?”

She rolled her eyes as he continued, “That reminds me, Poppy, you’ve simply _got_ to tell me the details of your dr-”

Just then a large group of trolls flooded the area as they turned away from the mushroom the twins had been using as a fashion model runway. She lost sight of Branch for a minute, then spotted his hair extending upward like an antenna and reached out to twine her hair with his. They came together and Branch took her hand again as they made their way to the chocolate stand. He didn’t let go of her hair, and the pink troll knew it meant that even though he liked secrets, it was his way of letting the world know just how much she meant to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we see the seeds of the Branch who eventually sought solace in isolation and self-sufficiency. But no matter how much he tries to prepare himself, deep down he really doesn’t want to be alone, and his reaction when King Peppy’s decision is not the banishment he expected shows it.
> 
> This is young Branch’s first significant interaction with Princess Poppy, when she becomes aware that he is different from other trolls and befriends him, even though she annoys him more often than not over the years, like a pushy little sister who dotes on her big brother so much that he sometimes goes to great lengths to avoid her, lol. And both here and in the movie she is also the source of forgiveness that leads him down the path to healing, giving him the solace and eventual happiness he couldn’t achieve on his own.
> 
> Courtley and Jaunty were inspired by the two easygoing main characters from Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure. I figured they might have an easier time handling Branch’s intense nature without as much family friction, plus I love the irony of the kid wanting to be serious and the parents telling him to go have fun! Jaunty has a southern California valley-girl way of talking, while Courtley has a lovely accent similar to Irish English.
> 
> I’m actually using many of the little Trolls toy figures that come in those blind bags (the ones where you can’t tell which one you’re going to get unless you can feel it through the bag) for my characters. Jaunty and Courtley are two of them, and there will be quite a few more. I’m even customizing some by painting them, if I can find ones whose hair is the right color. I’ll be posting pics of them on my Tumblr blog, dreamsinger-rose.tumblr.com
> 
> I chose ‘ice cream' as Branch's code word for anything to do with their romantic relationship in tribute to a favorite old Nickelodeon cartoon series called Hey Arnold, which has an emotionally complex, perpetually grouchy and lovestruck character called Helga who is in love with the main character but hides it from everyone by acting like a bully, especially toward him. 
> 
> At least, she thinks she does, but quite a few characters figure it out by the end of the series, and the two full-length movies actually give us a satisfying conclusion, which doesn’t happen often on TV these days! ‘Ice cream' was the code word Helga used to kind of skirt the edges of talking about her love to her best friend, who was a model of loyal discretion. Seriously, if you can accept the weird character designs, the show has some beautifully done episodes that touch the heart.


	12. Sweet Notions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All credit for Everything, the dreamy song I borrowed, belongs to Michael Buble.

A few minutes later Poppy watched as Branch popped a slightly-melted chocolate-covered caramel into his mouth and closed his eyes in bliss. “Mmmm.”

“I take it you approve?” She grinned at him.

Her boyfriend nodded, rolling the gooey treat around in his mouth. He looked silly and cute and his lips were moving in a way she’d never noticed before and she idly wondered what they would feel like when he pressed his mouth on her bare skin and… 

_What?_ She shook her head. _He’s just eating some candy. Why am I thinking…_

_Oh._ She blinked. _Wait, am I_ fantasizing _about him?_ Poppy closed her eyes, imagining his face near her body, kissing his way across her skin and- _Oh my gosh I_ am! __

__She dropped her caramel, her face burning. “Oh, let me get that for you, Queen Poppy,” said the candy vendor, a cheerful, bright plum-purple troll with a golden-yellow nose and brilliant red-orange hair, whose name was Fizzy Speckles. “Oh, dear, it’s got dirt and grass all over it,” he said, showing her the mucky caramel. Fizzy held out a tray of delicious-looking chocolates. “Please, have another one.”

To hide her embarrassment, she took one, although she wasn’t hungry anymore. It sat in her hand, melting and forgotten, as she stood there in a daze musing over these strange yet not unwelcome new thoughts. 

It was one thing to hug Branch, or cuddle with him, or share gentle touches of affection. It was another thing to check out the handsome aquamarine troll - from a distance, or tease him about being cute, or even blatantly flirt with him, but this…this was on a whole other level. 

_Wow. I mean, yeah, I touched him yesterday, but I didn’t know what I was doing. It was kind of spontaneous; he got out of the bath and I saw him and got really interested all of a sudden and before I knew it my hands were on him. And he just stood there and let me do it, so I kept going._

_I wonder what would have happened if he hadn’t stopped me? Do you think we might have-_

Her mind sheered away as she blushed. _Yeaahh, no. It would’ve been super awkward. From his reaction, I’m pretty sure he’s never done it before, either. I almost wish now that I had; I could’ve helped ease him into it- Ack!_ Poppy blushed hotly at her unintentional double entendre, unthinkingly squashing the softening caramel as she clenched her fists. _I – I mean, maybe if he’d been ready, we could have, but…_

__She pulled in a deep breath, blowing it out slowly in an attempt to calm her suddenly racing heart. __

_Settle down, girl, it’s not likely to happen anytime soon. Face it, Poppy. This is_ Branch. _The troll who spent ten years avoiding everyone? It’s probably gonna be a while before he’ll be ready for something like that, even though I know he’s interested. He’s the one who mentioned bedroom games, after all._

_Actually, I’m kind of surprised at myself. I’ve been so busy focusing on how_ he _feels about this whole dating thing that I haven’t really stopped to think about how_ I _feel. I mean, I don’t regret what I did yesterday; in fact I wish I’d done it sooner, but even so, things between us changed so fast. Branch might call me ‘the social one’, but this…this is kind of a big deal here._

_I’ve never wanted to touch anyone in ‘that way’ before. I didn’t even realize I’d crossed a boundary; it felt so natural with him. But it’s just as well I did, because if I’d stopped to think, I might not have. After all, Branch is all about boundaries. At least, he used to be. It’s like now that he’s finally opening up and letting me in, every day I feel closer to him. It’s just finally become physical, that’s all._

__The pink troll sighed. _I guess all I can do is keep doing what I did last night; focus on his needs and do what I can to help him get comfortable just being close to me. And think about all we have to look forward to._

__She brightened. _At least he promised me a kiss on our date; he even said he’s imagined us kissing. I wonder what kind of kiss? Like, a little peck on the cheek, or did he mean one of those sweep-you-off-your-feet super-romantic kisses, like in plays, where the troll who gets kissed gets all steamy and swoony?_

__In her mind’s eye she saw Branch wearing a loose white shirt with ruffles on his chest and sleeves, grandly dipping her toward the ground, his mouth warm on hers as he kissed her, slow and sweet. She giggled and sighed and put her hands to her cheeks, remembering too late about the melted caramel but hardly caring right then. __

_Maybe I should kiss_ him _like that!_ _Yeah, right, if I want to freak him out again._ She grinned, dropping her hands as she turned to study him. _Then again…it might be a good way to break the ice…_

__The young queen contemplated the one who drew her eye in a way no one else did as he stood there enjoying the chocolates; at once innocent and yet so compellingly _male_ that she wondered that she’d never noticed before. 

Well, maybe not _never,_ but it had certainly been a long time since she’d looked at him in that way. Her brief puppy-love phase toward him as a young teenager had not been reciprocated.

_Gee, that seems so long ago… Things feel so different now. When I look at him now, I kind of feel like I want to kiss him all over. I wonder if he wants to do the same to me?_

Just then Branch swallowed the caramel and said, “I’m gonna have to try that.”

“What?” Her voice cracked and she squished her caramel so hard it oozed out between her fingers.

“Coating them in chocolate, and warming them until they’re soft. My bunker’s great for keeping things cool so I don’t have to worry much about food spoilage, but cold hard caramels just can’t match the smooth, buttery-sweet flavor rush that these have. Fizzy, your chocolates are unbelievably good,” he praised the plum-colored troll, who looked pleased and thanked him enthusiastically.

“Please, have as many as you like!” he gushed.

This time Branch chose a cute little piece in the shape of a heart. He held it in his mouth for a long moment, his eyes closed, surrendering to the silky flow of melting chocolate. “Mmm… Sublime. Absolutely sublime.” 

Poppy couldn’t help but grin at the sight of him, his big soft nose swelling and releasing as he sighed lustily, a smile of sheer sensual pleasure on his sticky-sweet mouth. His lavender tongue emerged, gliding over the sugary residue on his lips, carefully securing every last trace of sweetness.

Mesmerized, Poppy unconsciously licked her own lips. _I reeaally want to kiss him right now…his lips and his cheeks and his nose and…and those cute little lines near his eyes…and his ears and his chest and…_

“Poppy, you’re looking a little flushed, and your eyes are glassy. Are you feeling all right?”

She blinked as her boyfriend’s face came into focus, his blue eyes full of concern. “I’m fine!” she said abruptly, and fanned herself with her clean hand. “Must be too much sun.”

“But we're in the shade. The chocolates would melt otherwise.”

She gave him an awkward grin, showing too many teeth. “Oh, right.”

“Is something wrong, Queen Poppy?” Fizzy asked. “I notice you haven’t eaten any of my chocolates. Are they not chocolatey enough?” He gasped. “Or are they _too_ chocolatey?”

“No, no, they’re fine.”

“Poppy…” Branch took hold of her wrist, and turned her hand to reveal the golden-brown mess coating her palm. “I know you can go off in a trance sometimes, but you didn’t even notice it melting, did you? And why is it all over your face?”

For once, she was the one too embarrassed to speak.

Branch exchanged a worried glance with Fizzy. “Poppy, what’s the matter?”

“It’s nothing!” she denied, wanting nothing more than to escape. In the back of her mind she suddenly realized that this was probably how Branch felt whenever he did something socially awkward, stirring a pang of sympathy for him. “I’m okay, really.”

“Poppy, you’re not okay. I can tell when something’s bothering you.”

A nearby troll asked, “Did you say something is bothering the queen?”

“What is?” another voice asked.

“I don’t know, but Branch just said something is wrong with Queen Poppy.”

More of the nearby trolls joined in, their voices becoming more and more frantic.

“Oh, no!”

“Is she sick?”

“Is she sad?”

“What should we do?” 

She was trapped by dozens of anxious faces all begging her for reassurance.

“I’m fi-” she began automatically, terribly frazzled now, but was shocked into silence at someone’s high-pitched cry. 

“Is she turning gray again?”

_Never!_ Suddenly she was back in that bleak bergen pot, crushed by guilt and despair as she awaited the slaughter of her people because of her heedless overconfidence. The jolt shot fire through her limbs and she before she knew it, she was moving.

“Poppy!” Branch called.

“I’m gonna go wash up!” she cried over her shoulder. “Thank you for the chocolates, Fizzy!”

She darted to the edge of the market square, dodging and twisting around everyone in her path as she raced toward a small stream that flowed through a nearby patch of greenery. As she fled, the surprised faces of her people kept turning toward her; a blurry kaleidoscope of colors and voices. Why couldn’t they just leave her alone for once?

Finally she reached the edge and plunged in, desperately hoping that no other trolls were in there enjoying the shady sanctuary. Relief flowed through her as she put some distance between her and the crowd, whose hectic babble faded, muted by the layers of foliage. The cool breeze felt good on her hot, sweaty face. She began to hear the sound of water trickling up ahead.

_Almost there._

Then a dark shadow swung down in front of her and she hit something solid and knocked it down, landing on top of it hard enough for the shadow to let out a strangled “Oof!”

Slowly Poppy lifted her head, her sticky cheek peeling away from what felt like someone’s clothes just as a pair of pained blue eyes opened in front of her.

“Hi,” she said in a weak voice. 

Branch put up a hand to rub the back of his head and groaned. “Poppy, what’s going on?” he grumbled.

She hesitated, not sure how to broach the subject, but then their positions registered and she tried to spring up, but he threw his arms around her and pulled her against him. “Oh, no. You’re not going anywhere until you tell me what’s wrong,” he said firmly. Then his gaze softened, and he nudged her nose with his. “I’m really worried about you. I’ve never seen you act like this.”

She shifted uneasily on top of him. “Nothing's _wrong,_ exactly…” She looked to the side, unable to meet his concerned gaze. “I’m just….really embarrassed,” she confessed sheepishly.

Branch raised an eyebrow. “Yeaah, no. Poppy, nothing embarrasses you.” He rolled his eyes. “Remember that time you dressed up as a blob of phlegm to demonstrate why it’s important to cover your face whenever you cough or sneeze?”

“Yeah, but this is different-”

“And I _was_ embarrassed. You made me be the tissue!”

“I told you, I needed somebody to catch me when Biggie and Smidge blew The Nose.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me! I’m trying to block the entire mess out of my mind.”

“Well, you should be glad I didn’t ask Guy Diamond to play the part, or you’d have had to catch glitter-phlegm!”

To her surprise, he smiled up at her. “Now you sound more like yourself.”

Her eyebrows shot up, one corner of her mouth dropping open as she realized what he’d done. “Sneaky,” she said admiringly, and smiled warmly. “Thanks, Branch.”

“You okay now?”

“Yeah.”

He loosened his hold and she slid her legs to the sides and sat up, straddling his thighs. His yellow tank top clung to her hand before peeling off, revealing a caramel-and-chocolate handprint and a smudge where her face had been. She winced. “Ooo, speaking of messes… Sorry about that.”

He glanced down at his tank top and frowned a little, but didn’t let her comment distract him. A part of her had been hoping it might, but Branch rarely let anything put him off when his suspicions were roused.

“There’s nobody around. Come on, tell me.”

She tugged on the hem of her skirt, twisting it self-consciously, getting caramel all over it. “Heh, heh, well, I was watching you enjoying the chocolates and all of a sudden I started thinking about – Well, uh, remember that dream I was telling you about? The one about ice cream?”

“The one that made you want to - oh. _Ohh…”_ Understanding crossed his face, and then his eyes bugged out. “Wait. You’re thinking about _that?_ Now?”

He looked down at where she was sitting and flushed a rich deep lavender. Poppy leaped to her feet just as he shoved himself back and up and a moment later two very flustered trolls stood several feet apart, blushing at one another. 

She watched him swallow and grimace, stress lines creasing his skin. Once again she was hit by the memory of how he’d blocked her from hugging him yesterday when she got too close too fast and triggered his deep-seated fear of intimacy.

_How awful to want it and fear it at the same time! What if he doesn’t let me near him after this?_

__“I’m sorry, Branch! I didn’t mean to do it!” She bit her lip and hung her head, staring down at the sun-dappled grass. Her ears weren’t as mobile as his, but she could feel them wilting nonetheless.

In the brief silence a stronger gust of wind swept through the clearing, making the taller grass fronds dance and sway, and his soft voice drifted to her ears. “Hey. Hey, don’t apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong,” he said soothingly. “You just surprised me. Again.” A note of humor entered his tone. “I should be getting used to that by now. But you know, Sunshine…”

His warm fingers lifted her chin as he bent close to smile into her eyes. “That’s one of the things I love most about you.”

She managed to smile back, but she still felt off. She wasn’t used to having to tiptoe around someone else’s feelings like this. It unsettled her.

He read her face, and his gaze turned inward for a moment. “You know, I’m not the only one who’s sneaky around here.”

She gave him a surprised look as he stepped back and gave her a grin. _“I_ see what you’re doing, talking about this mysterious dream of yours without sharing any details, miss flirty-flirt. Well, it just so happens I know the perfect song for that.”

He began to sway, tilting his head as a dreamy smile grew on his lips. Her spirits began to pick up, delighted as always when Branch chose to express his feelings through song. In a village full of singers, no one else’s voice had ever captured her heart so completely. 

When Branch sang, she was his, wholeheartedly.

> _You’re a falling star_  
>  _You’re the getaway cart_  
>  _You’re the line in the sand_  
>  _When I go too far_  
> 

He mimed drawing a line, then spread his arms out to the sides, palms up, smiling charmingly at her. Then he turned his face to the sky, running his fingers amorously through his hair, giving the impression that he was brushing wet hair away from the beckoning smile he turned toward her as he crooned,

> _You’re the swimming pool_  
>  _On an August day_  
>  _And you’re the perfect thing to say_  
> 

Poppy glided up to him, smiling nose-to-nose as she clasped her hands together under her chin and sang,

> _And you play it coy_  
>  _But it’s kinda cute_  
> 

He winked and waggled a finger in her direction as he countered,

> _Oh, when you smile at me_  
>  _You know exactly what you do_  
> 

She responded,

> _Baby, don’t pretend_  
>  _That you don’t know it’s true_  
>  _‘Cause you can see it when I look at you_  
> 

Branch took over, gliding and leaping and spinning, his unrestrained passion for her a delight to see. 

> _And in this crazy life_  
>  _And through these crazy times_  
>  _It’s you, it’s you_  
>  _You make me sing_  
> 

He bowed gracefully, his hand held out toward her, and her heart flipped as he went on,

> _You’re every line_  
>  _You’re every word_  
>  _You’re everything_  
> 

Her boyfriend continued to strut and whirl, performing his own special love-dance just for her, and the queen of the trolls blissfully drank it all in. 

> _You’re a carousel_  
>  _You’re a wishing well_  
>  _And you light me up_  
>  _When you ring my bell_  
> 

__She gestured to him, shaking her head with a lighthearted grin.

> _You’re a mystery_  
>  _You’re from outer space_  
>  _You’re every minute of my every day_  
> 

Poppy felt a thrill race down her spine as his glorious, sensual voice rang out.

> _And I can’t believe that I’m your man_  
>  _And I’ll get to kiss you baby, just because I can_  
> 

__She vowed faithfully,

> _Whatever comes our way_  
>  _Oh, we’ll see it through_  
>  _And you know that’s what our love can do_  
> 

The young lovers raised their voices in harmony, an effortless blending that never failed to make her quiver with joy. 

> _And in this crazy life_  
>  _And through these crazy times_  
>  _It’s you, it’s you_  
>  _You make me sing_  
> 
> 
> _You’re every line_  
>  _You’re every word_  
>  _You’re everything_  
> 
> 
> _So laa, laa, laa, la_  
>  _Laa, la, laa_  
>  _So laa, laa, laa, la_  
>  _Laa, la, laa_  
> 

__Branch picked her up and swooped her around, their hair streaming behind them, gazing at her with such jubilant adoration it took her breath away.

> _And in this crazy life_  
>  _And through these crazy times_  
>  _It’s you, it’s you!_  
>  _You make me sing!_  
> 
> 
> _You’re every line_  
>  _You’re every word_  
>  _You’re everythi-i-ing!_  
> 
> 
> _You’re every song_  
>  _Can I sing along?_  
>  _‘Cause you’re my everything_  
> 
> 
> _Yeah, yeah_  
> 
> 
> _So la laa laa la, laa la laaa_  
>  _So la laa laa la, laa la la laa_  
>  _La la la-ah-ah_  
> 

When he’d given her his heart, he’d given her all of him, too.

He set her on her feet with one hand on the small of her back holding her close to him while the other came up to cup her cheek. She gazed up at him, her entire body tingling with expectation. He began to lean toward her. She closed her eyes, her heart pounding as his breath crossed her lips. 

She waited, and waited some more. Finally she looked up to see stress lines deepening around his eyes, his body stiffening against her. Then he kissed her nose and let her go so abruptly that she had to quick-shuffle her feet to keep from tipping over.

“Wh-wha-”

Branch was staring off into the distance, his hands clasped behind his back. “Sorry. I want to kiss you, I really do. I just-I get the feeling that if I do, I’ll start something I won’t be able to stop. And this isn’t the right time or place for - you know.”

She gazed at him longingly. “We could go back to my pod. Or even your bunker, if that’s-”

“It’s not just that. I know you want to…be close to me. I want to be close to you, too. I want things to be perfect, with none of this-” He waved a hand between them, indicating the tension in the air.

She understood. He was afraid that if he tried to make love to her, he’d freak out and ruin it for both of them. Still, as much as she wanted to help him fulfil his dream, his expectations were a little unrealistic. And what about _her_ dreams?

Poppy tried to sound calm and reassuring. “Branch. It doesn’t have to be perfect. Besides, I’m sure the first time is a little scary for all trolls.”

He just shook his head.

“Arrgh!”She resisted the urge to grab her hair and pull. “Branch, you’ve _got_ to move forward _some_ time!”

“I know!” His face was full of frustration as they glared at one another. 

She huffed. “This isn’t easy for me either, you know? I’m new at this, too!”

“Look, I’m sorry, okay? I know I’m oversensitive!”

His admission helped to cool her temper. He saw her calm down, and his own expression shifted to one of regret. His ears dipped. “Listen, Poppy, I’ll - I’ll try to be more assertive. I will try.” He sighed deeply, his body slumping. “I just wish I could hold onto the way I feel when I’m singing. If only I were more like the other trolls-”

She stopped him with a finger on his lips. “Okay, first of all, honestly, I think it’s sweet that you’re so sensitive. And second, I didn’t fall in love with any of the other trolls, I fell in love with the most special guy I know.” Her voice grew husky. “The special guy who’s sensitive enough to know when I’m not okay and who understands exactly how to make me feel better.” 

She began to lift her finger from his lips, but he took hold of her wrist. He stared at her extended finger, still coated with sugary caramel/chocolate, and then his blue eyes met hers. Tentatively, he brought her hand to his mouth and his tongue slid out to lick at the caramel.

Her breath caught. He did it again, slowly dragging his softly rough tongue up from the base of her finger, tilting his head as if he were tasting an ice cream cone, his careful gaze never leaving hers. She swallowed, her belly quivering as his tongue caressed her finger again, and again. 

Branch began to smile a little, his confidence growing at her spellbound response. He opened his mouth a little wider and then hesitated, his eyes flicking to the sides, signaling his inner indecision. Then he looked into her eyes and lifted his eyebrows a little. She managed to nod and smile at him, a shivery, flustered, giddy smile, and his mouth closed over the tip of her finger. 

Fire rushed through her, matching the hot wet heat wrapped around her finger as his tongue swirled and scraped, lifting away the sticky residue. Slowly, he sucked on her finger and she felt it all the way down to her toes. His eyes were so big and dark and hypnotic she felt as if she were floating on a cloud made of glitter and lightning. She needed to open her mouth to get enough air.

Tiny lines appeared in the corners of his eyes. He seemed pleased at her response, or maybe amused, but she was too far gone to care. Slowly he let her finger slide out of his mouth, only to draw her back in, using his soft lips to hold her. For a moment he was still.

Her heart throbbed.

Then he made a silly loud slurping sound, rapidly dabbing at her finger with the tip of his tongue. “Mm, delicious!”

“Ahh, Braanch!” she half-scolded, half-laughed, as his spell over her was broken. She twisted her finger inside his mouth to grab his tongue, capturing it.

His eyes crossed and he let out a funny noise that might have been her name. She giggled. He made eye contact with her and bounced his eyebrows at her a few times and she burst out laughing and let him go, planting her hands on her hips. “And you say _I’m_ the flirt!”

He laughed too, as happy and carefree a sound as she could ever want to hear from him. And then she was in his arms again. Oh, how good it felt to hold him close, letting his warmth soak into her, to bury her face in his neck and enjoy his willing closeness. 

“Wanna know a secret?” he whispered in her ear. “There have been times I’ve caught myself watching the way your hips sway when you walk.”

His breath made her ear tingle. His words made the rest of her tingle, too. She smiled against the side of his neck and pressed herself against him, letting him know exactly how she felt about that.

Just like that morning, both of them seemed to need the solace of one another’s arms, a brief, sweet respite as they readied themselves to face the world again. Poppy let herself sink into him, focusing on his reassuring heartbeat and the tangy-sweet smell of his skin. One of his hands began stroking her back and she focused on that touch, warm and electric and soothing all at once.

Some troll’s voice called out to his friend nearby, and Branch jumped. Poppy loosened her hold but he clung to her, softly moaning in protest. She was touched at how he didn’t want to let her go, even though she knew he was afraid that someone would see them. “Come on, lover boy,” she chuckled fondly. “We don’t want them to send out a search party. Besides, I need to apologize to everyone for worrying them.”

“Oh, you’re okay on that score,” he assured her as he released his hold and stepped back. “I talked to everyone before I followed you. I told them you were fine; that you’d just remembered something you forgot to do. You’re covered.”

She gave him a grateful smile. “Thanks, Branch.”

He plucked at the smeared handprint on his chest and looked glumly at the water. “You don’t happen to have any soap with you, do you? I don’t think plain water’s going to cut it.”

As she shook her head, examining her grubby dress and dirty hands – when had the other hand gotten all sticky? – Branch sighed in resignation. “Well, here’s another outfit to add to the wash pile. Listen Poppy, I’m gonna need to head out to my bunker to grab some clothes and pick up some supplies. Like soap. And-”

“I’ve got a better idea. Instead of going all the way out to your bunker, why don’t we drop by the twins’ tent and pick up some new outfits? We can choose something super-duper-awesome for the Beadfest. I should have thought of it yesterday, actually, but for some reason,” she smiled at him sweetly, “I must’ve been distracted.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The dreamy song I borrowed is called Everything, by Michael Buble. I altered a couple of words to make it fit, like ‘cart’ instead of ‘car’ and ‘“I’ll” get to kiss you’ rather than ‘I’ since he hasn’t yet kissed her.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this musical interlude. I wanted to have our lovely young couple start truly noticing one another, and being more open to the idea of starting a physical relationship, and being honest with one another about it. One of the things I admire most about troll culture is how open they are about, well, everything.


	13. Check Me Out

The fashionista twins had put up an enormous tent crammed at random with racks of clothes. The aisles were too narrow for my taste; someone like Biggie would be hard-pressed to squeeze through them. I’d scolded them about that before, but they pointed out that he mostly made his own clothes anyway, or the twins made clothes especially for him, so he wasn’t likely to ever be in their tent anyway. I’d had to yield to their logic; they did know their clientele.

Clashing colors and patterns assaulted my eyes before we even went inside, practically shouting “Look at me!” “No, look at _me!”_

For a troll who prefers understated colors and camouflage patterns, the idea of wearing most of the things the twins designed was like holding up a huge flashing sign saying ‘Come eat me!’ But, since we _have_ made peace with our number-one predator, the bergens, even I had to admit there was no harm in dressing up once in a while.

I had insisted on rubbing dirt into Poppy’s handprint on the front of my tank top to disguise it, even though Poppy looked at me like I’d gone crazy. I'd shrugged. “What? I have to wash it anyway.” Even so, as I followed Poppy through throng of festivalgoers, I could have sworn that a lot of trolls were staring at us as we passed. Mostly at me. _Haven’t they ever seen dirty clothes before?_

__But I told myself, _Come on, don’t let the old paranoid Branch ruin this,_ and determinedly resisted the urge to dive into the nearest bush to hide.

Before we’d even gotten inside, Poppy’s eye was caught by a neon orange, yellow and green zebra-striped feathered-and-beaded cape displayed on the outer wall of the tent. “You know what, you go on ahead. I want to look at this.”

I groaned, but obliged her. We’d stopped at one of the public wash-pods to clean our hands and faces, so it was safe to touch the clothes on display as long as we were careful not to brush up against any of them.

There didn’t seem to be anyone in the tent, so I took a minute to look around. Overcrowded racks groaned under the weight of heavy bead-laden clothes in every popular style, and then some. Taken individually, many were quite beautiful and/or unique, but altogether it was like being in the middle of an orchestra, fog horns blaring. 

Besides the usual cotton, felt, silk, and satin, I spotted feathers, fur and fuzz, glitter, gauze and gilded fabrics, all decorated with beads that were themselves carefully chosen to complement the outfit and make a statement. Whether the statement was something you’d want to hear was another thing.

To be fair, a lot of the outfits looked really fabulous. It was just that for the most part, they were too impractical for me to consider wearing for more than a few hours. No wonder so many trolls, including Poppy, were famous for outfit-swapping during lengthy parties.

My first instinct was to separate the clothes into groups; to work out a system to categorize it all and make charts and graphs and it would take hours and… I tore my eyes away before I could give in to the urge. “Satin? Chenille?” I called out. “I could use some help here!”

“Just a moment, Branch!” one of them responded, and the hair-linked pair came hurrying toward me from the back of the tent, where I now saw they had an open area for trolls to try on clothes while the twins did quick alterations to better fit their customers.

“What happened to you?” Chenille pointed at my filthy tank top. 

Avoiding the expected question, I said breezily, “Oh, I just had a bit of a mishap.” Then I asked the magic question; the one that I knew would divert their attention. “Can you help me pick out something to wear for Beadfest?”

Their eyes lit up the same way mine did when someone said ‘Inventory Day’. 

“Makeover Opportunity accepted!” they cried gleefully. “But first, what do you think of _our_ Beadfest outfits?” Each of them struck a dramatic pose, wearing matching eye-blinding fashion model smiles. They both wore a multitude of round shapes, but, as I had come to expect, their outfits couldn’t be more different.

“Very…spherical,” I said wryly. “A globe-changing phenomenon.” 

“Oh, I get it… Good one!” Chenille laughed.

Satin looked blank. “What?”

Chenille and I traded grins. Trolls in general didn’t get my sense of humor, but Chenille was better at it than most.

“What did I miss?” Satin asked.

“Nothing,” I reassured her. “I just meant I liked your outfit.” _With reservations. It looks like it weighs a ton._

__The pink troll was moving heavily under the weight of a sleeveless dress entirely covered in small ceramic beads. Mosaic-like, it depicted a scene of a beautiful gold-and-pink sunrise over a lake.

“If you like this one, I have a similar outfit here.” Satin shuffled to a nearby rack and, with difficulty, held up an equally bead-laden shirt-and-slacks set. This one had a mosaic of a pretty aqua-blue waterfall with rainbows rising from the misty clouds at its base. 

The lovely scene struck an unexpected cord in me. _Rainbows… a waterfall and rainbows…_

__Satin broke in on my thoughts. “So, what do you think? Would you like to try it on?”

I didn’t want to hurt her feelings. Time to use some of my hard-won social skills. 

“Wow, Satin, _that_ is a work of art,” I said warmly, because it was. “But, honestly, it’s the kind of thing I’d prefer to hang on my wall to admire. I think I need something a little lighter and easier to move in. You know, just in case.”

“Oh, Branch. You _still_ think the bergens are going to attack us?” Chenille groaned as Satin, mollified at my praise, carefully hung the sunrise outfit back on the rack.

“No, I need to be ready in case I have to join in on a spontaneous song-and-dance number. You know how Poppy is.” I wasn’t being sarcastic, and judging by their giggles, the twins knew it. I felt compelled to add, “But now that you mention it, maybe… You know, there _are_ other dangers besides bergens. It never hurts to be ready.”

They exchanged an indulgent glance. “Of course, Branch,” they chorused.

“Then would you like to have this outfit after Beadfest is over, to hang on your wall?” Satin gestured at herself.

“Really?” I asked, pleased. “Well, sure, if you don’t think you’ll need it again.” I gave her a mellow smile. “Thank you, Satin.”

Chenille provided an unsolicited interpretation of her sister's motivation. “You need some color in that monotonous earth-toned bunker of yours.”

_Goodbye smile, hello annoyed frown._ _Now_ I was sarcastic. “Uh, it’s a _bunker…”_ I shifted my weight to one hip, stretching my eyes wide and gesturing in the air, palm up to emphasize my point. “It’s _supposed_ to be earth-toned...”

Like Poppy, the twins had remarkably selective hearing. 

“Well, if you want something lightweight, how about an outfit like mine?” Chenille suggested. The periwinkle-blue twin wore a thin body suit entirely covered in large, multicolored balloons, which to my eye made her resemble an unwieldy bunch of grapes. 

_How did she even get in here? There’s no way she could have fit through those clothing racks._

__“Well, that’s certainly lightweight, and very…unique, but don’t the balloons get in your way?”

“I know, right? So impractical!” Satin interrupted before her sister could answer.

Chenille scoffed, “Says the troll who can barely move! You know-”

Satin retorted, “Well, at least _I’m_ dressed for the correct holiday. Balloons are _not_ beads!”

“It’s _bead-inspired!”_

_“Guys!”_ I had to break this up. From experience, I knew this could last for hours. “A little help, please?”

“Oh, right…”

They turned to look me over. “Those aren’t your normal clothes.”

“Yes, we noticed earlier that you were wearing an…outfit.”

That was twin-speak for ‘It’s so awful we think you should be ashamed to be seen in public in it, but we’re being polite.’

“Yeah, well, like Poppy told you earlier, I’m trying something new.” _A lot of new things, actually. Starting with secretly dating the queen of the village. New hairstyles and clothes actually come pretty far down the list in terms of the impact the last twenty-four hours has made on the entire course of my life._

__“Speaking of Poppy, where is she?” asked Satin.

My old friends secrecy and suspicion kicked in. “Why would I know where she is?”

Chenille shrugged. “You were with her earlier.”

“And you’re…best friends, aren’t you?” I caught the slight hesitation in Satin’s comment and wondered if she’d meant anything by that, but she only gave me the same friendly look as her sister.

Well, they _were_ valid reasons. “She’s outside looking at some…outfits.” I smirked. __

__Chenille frowned, but Satin smiled brightly. “I see. So, you want to look especially nice today, do you?”

I didn’t answer; just stared at them, trying to put my finger on what felt so off about this conversation. _Why do I have the feeling that there’s a lot more going on in the subtext here?_

__Finally I nodded. “Sure.” I decided not to mention that Beadfest wasn’t my only reason for wanting to look nice. __

__They began to circle me, chins in hands, glancing back and forth between me and the dozen or more racks of clothing spread haphazardly throughout the long tent. I shifted uncomfortably, still unaccustomed to being the object of so much avid feminine attention. Then something occurred to me.

I tried to sound casual. “Hey, guys, since I’m here, I was wondering…would you consider me attractive?”

Both of them froze. They exchanged a wide-eyed look before turning back to me. “What makes you ask?” asked Chenille.

“Is there some troll out there you’re trying to impress?” Satin queried me. 

“What?” My mouth dropped open. _How did she jump to that conclusion so fast?_ “No,” I lied, looking away from them and hoping I wasn’t blushing. “I’m just…curious,” I said awkwardly, engaging in some selective hearing of my own, deliberately ignoring Satin’s question. I tried to relax my posture. “I mean, I’ve always assumed I had a certain rough-and-tumble charm, but nothing that could be classified as…well…”

I couldn’t say what I suspected; that Poppy's feelings for me colored me pretty in her eyes. Being good -looking had never been hugely important to me before; but then again, no troll had ever seemed to find me attractive before, so it had been easy to assume I wasn’t. 

But now, in the presence of two of the most appearance-conscious trolls in the village, suddenly it seemed to be the right time and place to ask the question.

“You want to know if you look hot,” Chenille said bluntly.

I recoiled, ready to deny it again, then gave up. “Yeah.” I felt my ears wilting, and braced myself for some comment about them.

Satin replied, “Let’s just say, if you were a vegetable, you’d be a pepper.”

“What?”

Chenille chimed in. “Yeah, and if you were fruit, you’d be a passion fruit.”

“And if you were a-”

“Guuys!” I sighed. “Look, I know that as trolls you like to be positive, but you don’t have to sugar-coat it. I just want an honest opinion.” I reached out and placed a hand on each of theirs, making eye contact, first with Chenille, then Satin. “I don’t have a lot of people I feel comfortable asking about stuff like this, and it’s really important to me. So please, all metaphors aside, yes or no; am I handsome?”

I didn’t realize I was holding my breath until both of them said, “Yes,” without hesitation.

“Whew! Thanks, you guys.”

Content now, I turned my attention to some of the nearby clothing and behind me I heard a soft intake of breath, hushed murmurs of discovery and a light giggle.

I spun around. “What?”

They grinned at one another, and Satin said playfully, “You didn’t ask us about your looks out of idle curiosity, diiid you?”

Chenille teased, “Yeah, you had something else in mind, diiidn’t you?”

“Or some _one_ in mind, yeeess?”

“Yes. No. Ye-” I began to sweat. “Wh-what makes you say that?”

“You have caramel handprints on your back.”

“What?” I yelped before I could stop myself, my voice cracking. I tore off my tank top and stared in horror. Sure enough, there were several overlapping prints from Poppy’s hands, including one that was short one finger, the one I’d ‘cleaned’ for her. _So_ that’s _what everyone was staring at. Arggh, half the village probably suspects by now! Why didn’t Poppy tell me?_ __

__“Oh, heh heh, must’ve happened at Hug Time. Somebody had sticky hands, I guess,” I said halfheartedly, wondering if I was fooling anybody.

To my surprised, the twins merely chorused, “Aww, tough luck, Branch.”

Satin began, “Well, why don’t you get rid of those things-” and Chenille finished, “-and we’ll have you try on some _fashion marvels!”_

I looked at the sisters for a second, then shrugged. _I must be a better actor than I thought._

__I turned the tank top inside out to keep the mess contained, removed my shorts and then wrapped the tank top inside them and tucked the package into my hair. I turned to face the twins, expecting them to start issuing orders, but oddly, both of them just stood there and stared at me with wide eyes and open mouths.

It was a little creepy. _You’d think they’d never seen a naked troll before. Which is impossible, considering their occupation._

“Uh, guys?” I waved a hand in front of them. “Hello?”

Both of them jumped. “Oh, right,” said Chenille, sounding distracted.

“You don’t wear underwear?” Satin asked. “Interesting.”

“Oh no, I do, usually. I just didn’t, uh, have any clean pairs this morning when I got dressed. I’m planning on doing some laundry soon,” I babbled.

“We can find you some to wear,” Satin reassured me, reaching out to pat my shoulder.

Her touch calmed me, and I smiled. “I’m glad I have friends like you looking after me,” I said appreciatively. Sometimes I still forgot I could rely on others for help.

Chenille joined her sister, patting my other shoulder. “Anytime, Branch.”

Her hand hesitated, then slid down my arm, squeezing my bicep, then moved back up and across my chest. Satin began to run her hands across my back. Assuming they were estimating my measurements, I held out my arms perpendicular to my body, and waited patiently for them to finish. 

For the second time in as many days I had hands stroking my bare skin; my chest, my stomach, my back, my butt, my arms and legs. But where Poppy's touch was exciting, the twins' touch felt soothing, like a gentle massage; the caring touch of good friends.

Then I felt a squeeze. “Oh!” I said involuntarily. There was another squeeze on the other cheek and I turned my head to see each of them standing with a hand on my butt, grinning at me. “What are you guys doing?”

“Just checking,” Satin responded with an enigmatic smile as they let me go.

“Checking what? To see if I’ve gained weight?”

“Well, you’ve gained _something,_ but it isn’t weight.” Chenille slid her periwinkle-blue hand across my chest again.

“Oh, you noticed I’ve been working out more, huh?” I said, pleased at the recognition.

Impulsively I struck a strong-man pose, throwing out my chest and flexing my biceps. It seemed to mesmerize them, their eyes traveling up and down my body with a kind of awed look. Was I _that_ buff now?

“What do you think?”

“Nice…” they murmured together.

Satin met her sister's eyes. “This is going to be fun.”

I was curious. “Do I really look that different?”

“No, not so much,” Chenille replied. “But we can tell.”

“It’s part of our profession to study the body and see what types of clothing work best on each one.” Satin smiled at me and patted my side. “Your body is still about the same shape as always, but your muscles are harder, and they have more definition.”

_Poppy noticed, too._ I nearly said it aloud, but I didn’t want to be accused of hiding a secret girlfriend again. Because I was.

Chenille ran both hands over my upper arms. “It’s not often we see trolls with such nice biceps.”

“Very commendable,” Satin agreed.

I knew what they meant. Most trolls use their hair for any tasks that require serious power, so their shoulders and upper arms tend to be on the slender side. 

“So why did you decide to start working out?” Chenille poked my ribs hard enough to tickle, and I twitched reflexively.

“Okay, technically, I’ve always worked out,” I explained. “You’ve seen my home gym, right? I’ve just stepped up my workout a little. See, I wanted to be ready for Poppy – I mean, you know how she has that habit of springing surprises on me, so I wanted to be ready – Although an adventure with Poppy kind of counts as a workout anyway, but still…” 

In trying to avoid talking about how much I’d wanted Poppy to notice me, I was getting tangled up in my own logic, but it didn’t seem to bother my friends.

“So you started working out more for Poppy?” asked Satin.

“Yeah,” I said warily. “You could say that.”

“Right answer,” they both responded, smiling, and I blinked. __

__“Huh?”

There was a crash near the front of the long tent. I whipped my head around and didn’t see the cute pink form I expected anywhere. Then I noticed one of the racks had collapsed, probably from the combined weight of so many beads.

I started to turn back to the twins, but my instincts made me hesitate. “Poppy?”

A soft moan answered me.

“Poppy!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know in Trolls: The Beat Goes On series that Poppy and her friends seem squeamish about seeing other characters in their underwear, but that may be because as a kids’ show, the creators have to promote the standard nudity taboo of our culture. However, since in Trolls Holiday, Biggie graphically demonstrates a holiday called Tearaway Pants Day, I decided to interpret that (and the whole ‘glitter trolls don’t wear clothes’) as a sign that casual nudity is not a big deal in the trolls’ culture. As long as people are just going about their business, it’s fine.
> 
> Physical displays of affection in public are a different matter. Since the trolls have a custom called Hug Time that allows them to express affection in a healthy way in public, I decided that they probably reserve the more intimate types of touching for just their lovers, in private. Unless TBGO turns out to be 100% canon, which I doubt.
> 
> That’s why Branch didn’t mind the twins touching him until they started getting too grabby and began to cross the acceptable boundaries of public touching. In the next chapter we’ll see Poppy’s view of this scene, as I imagine someone raised in her culture would see it.
> 
> The ‘Inventory Day’ joke is a reference to the day when a business decides to take inventory of the physical contents in its building. It’s usually considered hugely boring and yet stressful because it’s easy to overlook something or get the count wrong and then end up having to track down errors. Branch, of course, probably does inventory at least monthly, and easily keeps track of everything down to the last acorn. I figure he would enjoy it especially because it would represent how much he’d accomplished, in terms of collecting supplies.
> 
> The ‘outfit-swapping’ comment is something mentioned in the extras on the dvd, where Poppy is modeling a multitude of outfits the twins made for her, each meant for a different segment of the same party.


	14. Show Your Colors

“Poppy!” Branch shouted.

As she lay pinned on her back, the queen of the trolls was treated to the magnificent sight of a very naked Branch hurling himself heroically overhead. He flipped in midair, his hair brushing the canvas ceiling before landing lightly astride the stiflingly heavy pile of clothes covering her. She barely noticed the extra weight, too full of admiration for the perfect example of masculinity rising above her to care.

A moment later the weight lifted off of her as, muscles bulging, he heaved the entire mass up, rack and all, lifted it over his head and tossed it to the side.

Her mouth dropped open. _Forget ‘handsome’, my man is_ magnificent!

Branch dropped to his knees beside her and took hold of her shoulders. “Poppy, are you all right? Did you hit your head? How many fingers am I holding up?” He shot the questions at her in the same over-anxious, demanding tone way that used to annoy her but which she now found kind of endearing. He never acted quite this mother-hen-ish when anyone else was hurt. 

Her heart went all mushy. As he bent over her in concern, his creased blue eyes and sheer animal magnetism pulled her in and her hand found its way to his body quite naturally, as if she had done it a thousand times before. She gave him a playful smile and slid her hand down his chest. “Well, hellooo gorgeous.”

His eyes widened as his already pounding heart gave an extra _thump_ under her palm. 

“Oh, no. She _did_ hit her head. She's delirious!”

“Poppy?” the twins called together, and their long silhouette appeared behind Branch, but right then Poppy had eyes for no one but her love. She rolled her eyes and chuckled affectionately, transferring her touch to his face.

“I’m _fine,_ silly. But thanks for the concern.”

His eyebrows went up, then relaxed as he breathed a sigh of relief. Then he pulled her to him, pressing her tightly against his bare skin. “Oh, thank goodness. Poppy, don’t _do_ that to me.”

He’d been genuinely terrified. She could feel his heart bouncing against her breastbone, and her amusement instantly shifted to contrition. She brought up her arms and wrapped them around his waist. “Sorry, Branch,” she said apologetically.

With no clothes on, his enticing body heat instantly penetrated her skin, and instinctively she let herself go pliant, molding herself to fit against him. This felt right, this closeness. It felt so, so good to her. She rubbed her face onto his bare shoulder, breathing in his sweet-and-tangy scent as he pressed his head against hers.

“Awwww…” came the twins’ sentimental coos. Poppy’s eyes popped open and she felt Branch stiffen as both of them realized that he was hugging her completely naked.

They jerked away from one another and Branch tumbled backward, his feet flipping into the air and almost clobbering her in the face.

The twins burst out laughing. “Silly boy!” “Oh, Branch, you are such a card!”

“Oh… Ha ha, yeah, that’s me; always joking…” he said weakly as he stood up and offered Poppy his hand.

She took it and pulled herself slowly to her feet, letting herself enjoy the view as she rose. _Ohhh, yeah._

 __He saw the way she was looking at him and tried to hide an embarrassed smile, looking bashfully to the side as a lavender blush delicately tinted his cheeks. _Sooo cute!_ Delighted, Poppy was tempted to see if his other set of cheeks was lavender, too.

“Poppy, are you sure you're okay?” asked Satin.

“We're so sorry!” Chenille apologized.

Branch frowned and put his hands on his hips. “I _told_ you these displays were a safety hazard-" he scolded, but Poppy stopped him.

“It's not their fault. I was climbing on one and I got distracted and lost my balance.”

“What distracted you?”

She raised an eyebrow, crossed her arms and cocked a hip, looking for all the world like the aquamarine troll at his most sarcastic. “Care to guess?” Her eyes flicked downward, and back to his face.

Automatically Branch glanced down too. “Oh.” Cue the blush. “Again?”

“‘Again’ what?” the twins repeated.

“Nothing,” Branch said hastily.

“O…kay.” Chenille and her sister glanced back and forth between the couple, then stared at his bare body. “Ahem, well, Poppy, did you have a suggestion for clothing based on Branch's body type?”

“He's definitely the hunky type,” Satin declared before Poppy could answer.

Chenille put her hand in the middle of his chest. “I think we should emphasize his warrior-physique. Feel how solid his muscles are.”

Satin countered with a hand on his butt. “Yes, but the warrior look is all wrong for Beadfest! We should be emphasizing his cuddly, teddy-bear image.”

Branch was starting to look uncomfortable. “Um, guys…” 

The sisters continued to argue, their hands sliding around on Branch’s body in a way that Poppy would normally not have given a second though about, but today… _Why does that bother me?_ She frowned. _Well, anyway, even though casual touching is usually no big deal, even for Branch, right now he’s starting to get that panicky look again._

Poppy interrupted, “How about one of you help me, and the other helps Branch?”

“I’ll help Branch!” both of them volunteered instantly as they finally let go of her boyfriend, and then glared at one another.

“Girls!” Poppy shouted, feeling like a referee for the thousandth time. She controlled the urge to stamp her foot and instead invoked her queenly status to make a command decision. “Chenille, please help me. Satin, help Branch, please.”

“Yay!” cheered Satin, her fists in the air.

“Aww.” Chenille pouted.

Satin seemed to feel sorry for her sister. “Hey, I have a great idea. Since you two are here for the same reason, why don’t we have a mini fashion show? You could even wear matching outfits!” She clasped her hands together.

“No matching outfits!” Branch cried reflexively. “And we don’t have time for a fashion show. We have to keep an eye on the festival.”

Poppy stifled a grin. _However it happened, we seem to have switched sides about keeping our relationship a secret, but somehow it feels right to have him being the secretive one. Or maybe each of us is just trying to please the other?_

 __The twins gave Branch the same puppy-dog eyes that Poppy used herself at times, knowing he had a hard time resisting. Satin pleaded, “How about just for a quick photo shoot?”

“Afterward, each of you can keep whichever outfits you like best,” Chenille offered.

“Well…” Branch grimaced. “Poppy?”

Poppy shrugged. “I’m up for a photo shoot,” she said cheerfully.

Her grumpy boyfriend crossed his arms and groaned. “Okay, fine! But I want copies of the photos.”

“Ooo! Me too!” _Just what I need for my ‘ice cream’ scrapbook!_

“And only five outfits.”

“Aww, only five?” Poppy said disappointedly. “But Branch-”

“Otherwise we’ll be in here all day.” He stepped closer to her and put a hand on her shoulder, and suddenly his summer-blue eyes were all she could focus on. “Come on, Poppy, don’t you want to spend the day having fun with me at the festival?”

He gave her a charming smile, and whatever she’d been protesting about evaporated from her mind. “Sure,” she agreed before she realized it. _Man, he’s getting too good at this. Has he been practicing that smile?_

The twins decided it would be more fun to create a little dramatic mystery by putting up a wide wooden panel in the center of the tent so their friends couldn’t see one another while they tried on clothing. Poppy and Chenille stayed in the open area near the front that Branch had inadvertently created with his outstanding throw, while he moved to the open area in the back that the twins reserved to make alterations to their customers’ outfits.

The young queen had overheard most of the conversation between her boyfriend and the sisters, entering the tent in time to register the twins’ scorn as they commented on Branch’s new ‘outfit’. _I think even Branch picked up on it, which is saying something. His taste in clothes is definitely ‘function over form’._

Because it was rare that she got to see Branch interacting with other trolls when she wasn’t around, Poppy had used her hair to lift herself off the floor just high enough to peek over the rack in front of her. After a while, she’d gotten so interested in their conversation - and in her boyfriend's ever-fascinating bare body - that she’d forgotten where she was and let herself down, right onto the rack at just the right angle to tip it forward. Hastily she'd yanked it back toward herself, and the mass of heavily beaded clothing had neatly tipped over on top of her before she’d registered what had happened.

It had surprised her at first, to realize that the twins had noticed him before she had. _That’s a good thing, though. He needs to hear more people tell him they like the way he looks. I still have a hard time believing he’s so insecure about his appearance. If he is, why wear such scruffy shorts?_ Although she had to admit she loved his intricate little leaf vest, so cute and frilly; a real treat to her scrapbooker’s eyes.

She decided she would have to give the twins something nice to thank them for being so good to her boyfriend. _Even if they_ did _go a little overboard with the touching. Even at the best of times, Branch has never been a cuddler. The last thing I want is to have them make him even_ less _receptive to my touch._

 _And…maybe I’m…kinda…sorta…a little bit jealous._ She sighed. I _wanted to be the one touching him._

 __“What do you think of this outfit?” Chenille pulled out a bright orange-and-yellow geometric top, yellow knitted yarn vest and white bell-bottomed slacks.

“Very retro,” Poppy said honestly.

“I know. Retro is ‘in’ right now.”

“It’s cute, but I feel like it’s a little _too_ retro. My dad wore an outfit just like this when he was dating my mom. I have pictures.”

“He _did?”_ Chenille looked aghast and tossed the outfit over her shoulder. “Well, that settles that. No retreads allowed! Let’s move on. Here, try this one.”

Not all the clothes had beads on them. Periodically, to clean out their closets, the twins brought a large selection of clothing to an event and, if needed, altered them on the spot. Poppy had snagged more than a few of her favorite outfits that way. A trip to the twins’ tent was always rewarding.

As she tried on everything from ball gowns to bikinis, Poppy, who normally enjoyed herself immensely when choosing clothes, began to realize that she had an agenda. _I wonder what sort of clothes would appeal to Branch?_

 __“Mind if I choose some?” she asked her friend, careful not to mention her ulterior motive.

“Of course, go ahead.” Chenille watched her curiously, offering her own feedback now and then.

Feeling a little like a troll from a fairy tale who needed just the right gown to wear to a ball, the troll queen modeled a series of outfits:

-A white t-shirt with a huge yellow glitter-smiley face on the front and pink cotton shorts sprinkled with more glitter.

“That’s fantastic, but maybe glitter isn’t the best choice for today,” Chenille said.

“No glitter?” Poppy blinked, then shrugged. “Okay.” _Actually, that’s not a bad idea. Branch isn’t all that wild about glitter anyway._

 __-A mint green satin ball gown with curving peach-colored sashes swooping around the bell-shaped skirt.

“Not that you couldn’t pull it off, but are you sure you want to wear that for an outdoor bead festival?”

“More outdoorsy, huh? Okay, how about this?”

-A red and black flannel checkered shirt, denim pants and sturdy boots.

“Very sporty, but today is a little too warm for flannel, isn’t it?”

“Something cooler. Gotcha.”

-A metallic gold crop top and tiny metallic gold shorts

“Oh, that look is super sporty, but maybe not fancy enough for a festival?”

“Fancy, huh?”

-A lavender dress with a super-fluffy skirt made of numerous layers of delicate chiffon gauze in a rainbow of pastel colors

“That is adorable on you! But what about something a little different than your usual look? Maybe something a little more formal?”

“Formal, hm?”

-A plain white long-sleeved blouse and dark gray suit jacket with a matching pencil skirt and subtle glitter pinstripes

“That’s definitely an outfit that commands respect, but…don’t you think it’s a little too severe for a festival? Also, it has glitter on it.”

“Aw, man, why is this so hard?”

Chenille finally put a hand on her arm. “Poppy, what exactly are you looking for?”

“Do you have anything that can emphasize my hips?” Poppy asked before she thought. _Oops! What if she asks why?_

Chenille blinked. “Your hips?” 

Poppy caught herself rubbing her elbow with her other hand and made herself stop squirming. “Yeah, uh, so do you?”

Chenille’s maroon eyes looked at her for a long moment while Poppy bit her lip, waiting for the inevitable question. Even though Chenille was her friend – _because_ Chenille was her friend – having the truth come out right now would be both good and bad. _Good_ because Poppy still felt vaguely guilty for wanting to have an exclusive relationship with just Branch and no one else, and for prioritizing her time with him over others, especially her oldest and dearest friends. 

_Bad_ because as her friend, Chenille would of course be overjoyed and would want to spread the happy news. The next thing they knew, Poppy and her boyfriend would be swamped with invitations to dozens of parties that would be fun, but would also leave no time for what she instinctively knew was really important right now: quiet time alone with Branch.

_Branch is still so nervous when we’re alone together. I want to see more of his sweet, tender side. Not to mention...I want us to be lovers, someday. That’s not going to happen if we can’t spend time alone with each other. We’ve barely begun to grow together, like a poppy flower entwined with an oak branch._

__But the periwinkle-blue troll only smiled. “No problem! How about something nature-inspired?”

Relieved, Poppy snapped her fingers and pointed both index fingers at her friend. “I _like_ where you’re coming from!”

As soon as Poppy saw it, she knew it was perfect.

“It’s wonderful!” Poppy impulsively hugged her friend, noting that the beads decorating her clothes didn’t hurt or get in the way. The warm colors went well with her warm-pink skin and brilliant magenta hair, and best of all, the short skirt flared when she moved, drawing attention to her hips. “I _love_ it, Chenille!”

Her periwinkle-blue friend affectionately hugged her back. “I’m so happy for you.”

“What?”

“Um, nothing… Well, we need four more. Here, what do you think of this outfit?”

“Oooo,” Poppy said appreciatively, forgetting about her friend’s odd reply.

-O-

“So you _can_ be apart from Chenille. Sort of,” I said as I followed Satin as she lumbered through the narrow aisles in her heavy beaded dress, extending her hair as she went, as Chenille did, to stretch the length of hair that bound her to her sister.

“Of course we can,” Satin explained, sounding slightly out of breath. “It’s tiring to do it for too long, and there’s a limit on how far, of course, but in here it’s fine.”

It was strange to see her without her sister, who was helping Poppy behind the panel near the front of the tent, but it made me realize that she really was an individual, who just happened to always have a sister nearby. “Does it ever bother you, to be treated as if the two of you were a single unit?”

Satin stopped and stared at me for a long moment. “Sometimes. I’m so used to it I don’t notice most of the time, but to be honest, yeah, it bugs me.”

“Maybe you should do this more often,” I suggested, gesturing in the air to indicate the empty space between the sisters. “If people saw you by yourself, it might make them start to think of you as just Satin. Like I just did.”

Satin looked thoughtful. “Maybe we will.”

“‘I’,” I corrected.

“What?”

“You said ‘we’, not ‘I’.” I smiled wryly. “I think you may even think of _yourself_ as a unit. It’s an easy habit to fall into, isn’t it?”

Satin was silent, then said, “You know, Branch, I never really understood why you wanted to live away from everyone, all alone in your bunker, but even though it made you kind of paranoid, it also seems to have given you some kind of insight that the rest of us don’t have.”

I stared at her, not sure whether I should be insulted, but then she smiled and put a hand on my arm. “I’m glad you decided to come out and share it with us. With _all_ of us, I mean, not just me and Chenille.”

She chuckled, and I joined her. It felt good to have friends.

Satin pulled out the sleeve of a bright red disco suit, glanced at me, and let it go. “Nope.”

“You don’t think I’d look good in that?”

“Not your color.”

“Oh.”

She glanced at me, tapping her chin and frowning thoughtfully. “We were surprised to see you in different clothes today. Although, actually, Chenille and I have always liked the whole vest-with-no-shirt thing. It’s super cool.”

“Oh, really? I’m flattered.”

“The patched shorts, not so much.”

“Thank you for that completely unsolicited comment.”

“You’re welcome,” she replied sincerely.

I rolled my eyes and smirked. Chenille would have caught my sarcasm.

Actually, I had a good time exploring my options. I never used to spend much time on fashion – the advantages of a wardrobe consisting mostly of camouflage-patterned clothing were obvious – but I did have clothing meant for other purposes.

What I didn’t have, though, was clothes meant to impress my new girlfriend and make me look my best, but Satin’s earlier comment about colors gave me an idea.

“Speaking of colors, do you have anything to make me seem brighter?”

“Brighter?” Satin gave me a puzzled look.

“My colors, I mean. Bright colors are considered more attractive, aren’t they? So I was hoping you could help me pick clothes in colors that would make my colors seem brighter.”

“Your skin is about the same intensity as Chenille’s. You don’t think your colors are bright enough?”

I dropped my gaze. “Um.” I didn’t want Satin to think I was insulting her sister, but despite what Poppy had said about finding me attractive even when I had gray skin and black hair, I was sure that the brighter I was, the better I would look in her eyes. My dark purple hair and light blue-green skin were definitely colorful, but neither was as bright as I would have liked. 

“I suppose I couldn’t expect you to understand,” I said quietly.

Satin glanced over at the thick wooden panel, behind which we could hear the occasional muffled comment between Chenille and Poppy, and leaned close to me. “You might be surprised. A lot of trolls like to do things to enhance their appearance. For example, we like to dye the bridge of our hair. It gives the impression that it’s the same color.”

“Huh.” I’d noticed that their multicolored hair, while similar, was actually different colors at their heads– Chenille’s was aqua-blue, while Satin’s was more of a turquoise-green. I’d stayed at their pod for about a month as a trolling, and I remembered that their hair had been a bluish color, but I’d never realized that the pink and peach colors they currently wore had been dyed. If anything, I’d assumed they just kept their hair permanently turned to the colors they preferred by using the natural hair-changing ability all trolls were born with. Unless they lost that ability, as I had when I went gray. 

Losing the ability to camouflage myself by changing my hair color had made me seek out other, more creative ways, including camouflaged clothes and using natural cover. My gray skin had actually proven to be a solid advantage in that regard; one I had come to appreciate, giving me the ability to blend into shadows far more easily than my bright-colored fellows. At times, I had actually caught myself wishing I still had it. Of course, losing that ability had given me back the other one, so it all balanced out.

“So the best colors for you…” Satin looked me critically up and down. “Well, one way to make your colors pop is to wear colors dark enough to make your colors seem brighter by association. For example, purple, magenta, or raspberry would go with your hair and also make your skin color look brighter.”

“That makes sense.”

“Another way is to choose the complementary color on the color wheel. The opposite of purple is yellow, and so on.”

“Oh, I see. Any shade of yellow?”

“No. Your hair is a cool purple, so to make it pop more, we need to give it more energy. Warm colors have more energy than cool ones, so we might choose a warmer yellow. Only, it might not go with your skin color, so I think you need to decide whether you’d rather focus on your skin or your hair.”

“My skin, I guess.” _Poppy said she liked my black hair, so she probably likes dark purple, too._

“Okay. Your skin is a blend of blue and green, so the complementary colors are orange and red. Not too saturated, though; your skin is very light and it would be easy to overwhelm it.”

“So, warm peach and pink, then?”

“Right; also coral, salmon, bubblegum, and even some of the warmer lavenders. Cream or tan, if you want warm neutrals. Although one thing you might want to consider is that since your natural colors are all cool colors, I think white would look very good on you, clean and fresh and soothing.”

“I don’t normally wear white. It gets dirty so easily.”

“Oh, live a little! This is a special day, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.” I gazed fondly toward the wooden panel, smiling dreamily as I listened to the muted murmurs of the girl who meant more to me than words could say. “It is.”

Satin looked from me to the panel and smiled. “You know, you’re actually lucky, because your colors _are_ more neutral. You can wear a wider range of colors than, say, Poppy. It all depends on the look you’re going for.” 

“Whatever makes me look, uh, hot.” I tried not to blush, but from the heat in my ears, I don’t think I was successful.

Satin clapped her hands affectionately on the sides of my face, beaming at me. “Oh, my, who would have guessed you’d turn out to be such a cutie pie!”

I froze, my eyes flicking to her face, then away, then back at her as I tried to process all this affection coming at me. Satin was the friendlier of the twins, but the vibe I was getting off her was almost like a sister, or a mom. _What do you say to a random comment like that_?

“Um, thank you?”

As I turned in place to scrutinize my surroundings, I mentally rolled up my sleeves. _As long as I’m doing this, I might as well do a thorough survey of my choices. I hope I can find something that’ll really impress Poppy._

__-O-

_Well, well, would you listen to that!_

__The heavy wooden panel kept her from hearing some of what Branch and Chenille said, but it tickled Poppy to listen to her boyfriend discussing fabrics, styles and themes as if he’d done it his whole life, rather than dismissing the very idea of fashion as a frivolous waste of time. __

 _Who would’ve guessed he’d get so into this?_ Poppy thought in delight. _It just goes to show, everyone should try something new once in a while. It’s a great way to add a little spark to your life. I can’t wait to see what he chooses!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The “super cool” thing Satin was talking about actually came from an extra on the dvd where they showed some lines the twins were supposed to say in the movie that got cut, indicating to me that the twins were supposed to admire Branch’s looks.
> 
> So I was trying to figure out what characteristics trolls might consider attractive when looking for a mate. Female trolls don’t seem to have breasts, so I figured it would be hips, legs and/or hair for females. And for the males, since both sexes have superstrong hair, the males probably don’t attract a lot of females simply by virtue of being big and strong. 
> 
> Then it occurred to me that since color seems to be important, culture-wise, that maybe brighter colors would be one thing that _does_ draw the eye, at least unconsciously. So I figure Branch would notice this, and conclude that his colors weren’t bright enough. I also decided that other trolls besides him probably used makeup and other things to enhance their natural coloring to impress potential mates. Plus, in TBGO Satin mentioned that their hair was dyed.
> 
> In figuring out what colors looked best on Branch, I realized that some of the colors the creators chose for him matched my expectations, like the warm-orange and warm-green scarf in Trolls Holiday. His shorts are a fairly warm-reddish shade of brown, too. But to me they’re a little oversaturated - his skin has the tendency to look pale against them. I’d be curious to see what movie-Branch looks like in lighter colors. 
> 
> In the TV series, he has teal-green skin and mid-blue hair, both cool colors, and as I thought, he looks really good in white. The creators must think so, too, since we’ve seen him in a white martial arts uniform, a white bathrobe (even though he already had a green moss bathrobe established in Trolls Holiday) and a cute little white vacation-shirt in the Wormhole episode.
> 
> One thing I noticed was how Branch and Poppy were definitely designed to look good on screen together. The creators tend to like dressing Poppy in shades of blue and light green, too; actually, most of her clothes in TBGO are surprisingly subdued, colorwise. All I can think is that they discovered that a lot of colors clash with her hair/skin and so they went with muted colors for her, for the most part.


	15. Pretty Boy

I never realized there were so many different styles of underwear. I liked the briefs and boxers, but I didn’t like the odd little scrap of cloth I tried on, even though the Satin said it looked good on me. _I’m not sure she understands the point of underwear._

__Working with Satin, I’d been able to secure four outfits that I felt good about. Wearing them gave me confidence.

“Say, I look good,” I said, unable to keep a note of pride from my voice. Wearing the fanciest of my new outfits, I slowly turned to admire myself in the triple set of tall mirrors surrounding me. 

“Well, of course you do,” Satin agreed, with a touch of her usual arrogance. “Between your good looks and my incredible fashion expertise, you literally cannot look anything _but_ fantastic. Even if some of your choices are so bland and unoriginal.”

“‘Bland and unoriginal?’" I echoed. “What do you mean?” 

”You have a chance to wear something really out there, something totally _‘now’_ , but instead you just…” She sighed. “Seriously, Branch, for someone so strange, your taste in clothes is boringly pedestrian.”

“Well, excuse me for wanting clothes that will stay in fashion for longer than ‘now’,” I said in mild annoyance, curling my fingers into air quotes. “And what do you mean, ‘strange’? Everything I do makes perfect sense.”

“Sure, Branch.” She rolled her eyes, but underneath her exasperation I could sense her affectionate tolerance. Was this what it was like when she and her sister quarreled? It felt kind of like when Poppy and I argued, but less intense, somehow. Like some vital element was missing. 

Maybe because I wasn’t in love with her? Very few trolls could get me as furious or upset as Poppy could, but then, very few trolls could also make those bad emotions go away just by smiling at me or taking my hand in hers. Poppy was one of very few people who was allowed through the careful barrier I maintained around my heart. And no one could touch me deeper than she could.

_Speaking of Poppy… I’m pretty sure she’ll like at least one of these outfits, but she’s been known to wear some pretty offbeat outfits herself. It couldn’t hurt to cast my net a little wider, could it?_

“Okay, Satin. I’m game. Show me something a little more unconventional.”

“All _right!”_

I crossed my arms, relaxing into a mellow smile at the way her face lit up before she dove back into the racks.

-O-

“Hey, Branch, are you ready yet? There are other trolls wandering around outside the tent who look like they want to come in and get Satin's and Chenille's help.”

“Yeah, I’m just about done,” I called back. It had taken me a lot longer than I’d thought. I’d assumed I’d be done first, but in fact, Poppy finished before I did. Then again, she did have a lot more experience than I had when it came to choosing clothes.

“Should I go first, or do you want to?” Poppy asked me.

“Eh, it doesn’t matter to me.” I tried to sound casual, even though I was actually just as eager as Poppy sounded to show myself off in my new finery. “They’re just clothes. You can go first.”

Actually, the more I had focused on them, the more fascinating they’d gotten. I could see why clothing was an entire industry all by itself. _So many colors and patterns and fabric types. So many styles, each with its own messages and history._ I had spent far longer than I’d imagined making my choices, and wondering which would appeal most to Poppy.

Satin handed me a plain brown robe to cover up the outfit I was currently wearing so Poppy wouldn’t see it before it was my turn. I put it on and stood next to the pink twin as she pulled a camera from her hair and cheerfully said to me, “So after you’ve seen all her outfits, you’ll decide which one is your favorite, and Poppy will do the same for you when it’s your turn. Then each of you will announce the winning outfit, okay?”

“Sure,” I said agreeably. When she wasn’t wearing the traditional troll garb, or her royal robes, most of Poppy’s clothing looked fairly similar; cute, frilly dresses that always made her look pretty. I was expecting more of the same.

As Poppy stepped out from behind the wooden panel, Chenille announced grandly, “She’ll have fun in the sun in this cute little number, a bright orange spaghetti-strap top decorated with a spectacularly large rainbow-hued heart made of nested rows of fuzzy puffball beads. Note the attractive pine-green shorts, spunky orange-and-green sandals, and orange hairband, all with matching puffball beads.”

“Super cute!” Satin gave a thumb’s-up.

I glanced at the enormous heart on Poppy’s front and said a little awkwardly, “Right. Real cute.” _Yeeaah, can’t get much more blatant than that. She might as well have just gotten a t-shirt made that said ‘Hi, I’m Poppy, I’m Queen of the Trolls and I’M IN LOVE!!!!’_

__I raised an eyebrow. _And is it me, or is Chenille talking less about Poppy and more about the outfit itself?_

__I watched my bright queen move through several crowd-pleasing poses while Satin’s camera flashed, her perky topknot bobbing cheerfully as she skipped around and waved at me – at the camera, rather - and couldn’t help adding mentally, _But you know, she really_ is _cute._

__When Satin was done taking pictures, Poppy changed behind the wooden panel, and emerged as Chenille began her next introduction.

“She’ll look sweet as sugar in this lovely white sundress and its adorable matching sunhat. Made of lightweight cotton, this sundress is covered with a soft white lace overlay embroidered with small pink roses, with matching pink satin roses on the slender shoulder straps and gracefully curved neckline. This enchanting sundress is also sprinkled with delicate crystal beads that create little rainbows that shimmer magically in the sun.”

“The white sunhat is also adorned with a spray of matching pink roses and rainbow-making crystal beads. With its airy knee-length skirt and delicate sheer flutter sleeves, she looks so dainty and feminine she’s sure to be every boy’s dream girl!”

_You got that right._ I gazed at my love, smiling dreamily at the beautiful picture she made as she sauntered elegantly across the room, giving me coy, sidelong glances that brought out all kinds of warm feelings in me. The topknot I had fixed for her had been exchanged for a few long, loose curls that framed her pretty face to perfection. _I expected something like this, but somehow she looks so…special. Like a fairy sprite. All she needs is the wings…_

__“So, what do you think?” Satin asked me over the _shuff_ of her busily flashing camera.

I tried to shake off the spell Poppy had cast on me. “Oh, she looks nice. Really beautiful. Like – like a flower shining with morning dewdrops, an ethereal being, her radiaaance…” I caught myself, looking back and forth at the three girls, all of whom had stopped to listen to me wax poetic. I crossed my arms and looked to the side, trying to hide my embarrassed smile at their wondering stares. “I – I mean, she looks nice.”

After a long, awkward moment, Satin went back to photographing, and Poppy went back to posing, although now my girl stepped even more lightly, more of a dance than a runway walk. Her filmy sleeves and skirt floated becomingly on the breeze as she twirled on her toes, her arms drifting in graceful arcs, no doubt influenced by the tender words that had flowed quite naturally from my lips at the mere sight of her.

Unable to take my eyes off her, I sighed longingly, wishing in that moment that I could tell her all the things she made me feel. _I still could, I suppose; it’s not like Satin and Chenille don’t know I’m a poet. But I don’t just want to praise her beauty, I want to say the things to her that make her give me those soft, loving looks that melt me inside…_

I felt a pang of disappointment as my girl ended her presentation, curtseying beautifully and lifting her eyes to meet mine. I clapped warmly, smiling but not saying anything, just in case I got started and couldn’t bring myself to stop. Although, as she went off to change, I mentally rehearsed the words I’d said, committing them to memory until I could get them down on paper.

“And now, for a change of pace, we would like to present ‘Nature Girl Poppy’!”

My eyes lit up as Poppy walked out. Chenille continued, “Poppy is sporting a green furry sleeveless tunic decorated with bright, cheerful flowers. With her green camo leggings, brightly flowered headband, and flowery belt, she’s ready for a hike in the woods – or a fun game of hide-and-seek!”

“Fantastic!” I flashed a double thumb’s-up, not even bothering to hold back my grin as Poppy pranced around, posing cockily with her fists on her hips and a sassy grin of her own. Her hair was back to its normal, everyday style, attractively decorated with even more flowers and thick blades of fuzzy grass. “Awesome outfit, Poppy.”

The next outfit was even more notable.

“Glamorous and chic, next we see Poppy in a close-fitting black velvet unitard, with a pert little velvet skirt decorated with tiny silver beads at the waist and hem line. Matching silver beads embellish her wrists and neckline and then glide inward, spiraling into graceful swirls designed to please the eye. To add the perfect finishing touch, her hair is arrayed with this delicate silver-beaded garland. Doesn’t she look just fabulous, people?”

“She sure does!” Satin cheered, as Branch stared with his mouth open. Satin elbowed him.

“Dazzling,” he said breathily, his voice wavering, never taking his eyes off his queen. Her brilliant magenta hair was collected into a neat upsweep except for a few strands curling artfully in front of her ears, against which the bright silver-beaded metallic garland sparkled like dewdrops. 

She winked at him as she began to flex herself in a series of slow, flowing yoga poses, all lithe grace and curves, and he swallowed. 

_Okay,_ that _I did_ not _expect. She’s so sleek, so supple... And that color! I never would have guessed she’d look so fantastic in black. It’s not a popular color in troll village; I should know. But just look at her - pink and black are_ awesome _together!_ He grinned. _Just like us._

__Chenille’s tone was warm with affection as she announced the final outfit. “You can’t help but smile at the sight of our favorite girl Poppy, who is wearing a beautiful light yellow blouse and perky short skirt. From the topline of this attractive off-the-shoulder blouse falls a set of two-tiered ruffles that flutter gracefully as she moves; light yellow on top and bright green underneath, both edged in delicate pink embroidery. A sweetly meandering spray of cute leaf-shaped beads flows down the left side of this lovely blouse in a pleasing gradient of greens, from pine to seafoam.”

“The flared, pink-embroidered skirt has matching yellow and green tiers, with a beaded-leaf waistband. As anyone who sees her will agree, this bright and happy girl will bring sunshine into your life.”

_She sure does._ As Chenille had said, just looking at my radiant Sunshine brought a smile to my face and a shining light in my heart. And I couldn’t imagine a time when the sight of her would bring me anything but joy.

Poppy did a twirl on her heel and flipped backward in a rippling arc of lemon and leaf before she landed with a foot extended to the side, toes-up, with her other knee bent and a hand on her hip. She thrust the other hand into the air, beaming.

The twins cheered, “Whoo! Awesome!”

“Work it, girl!”

I grinned at her as she bowed impishly. “Nice choice.”

“Why, thank you, kind sir.” Poppy curtsied grandly, and I noticed that her hair was back in the topknot I liked so much.

“All right, thank you for that fabulous lineup.” Satin made a shooing motion. “Everyone, let’s switch places now.”

-O-

Poppy grinned as she passed Branch in his nondescript brown robe. “I’m seriously excited right now!”

“You really love this kind of thing, don’t you?” he said with a smile. “Well, you won’t be disappointed.”

As he went behind the wooden panel, she thought she heard him say in a more subdued tone, “I hope.”

Satin served as Branch’s announcer, while Chenille took on the role of photographer. “Today’s first outfit features our intellectual and sophisticated Branch wearing this cozy-yet-fashionable cream-colored cable-knit sweater, with a refined, v-neck shawl collar.”

“It’s paired with handsome tweed trousers, which, you will notice, may appear at first glance to be a simple dark caramel in color but in fact they have flecks of many other beautiful colors hidden within their subtle herringbone weave. Embellishing these quaint, old-world trousers along their outside seams is a row of exquisite coin-shaped rose-gold beads whose domes are engraved with a beautiful filigree design. For a final touch, hipster-style accessories include a trendy tweed flat cap with matching rose-gold beads decorating the hatband, and elegant tan suede Oxfords with rose-gold eyelets.”

Under his cap his hair had been brushed back and tied into a neat ponytail with a slim, cream-colored ribbon. Pleased at the charming picture he made, Poppy praised, “I like it. Conservative, yet dressy. Nice choice, Branch.”

A light flush of lavender betrayed his pleasure at the compliment, and she clasped her hands together in front of her, her spirits soaring with giddiness. _Aw, he’s so_ cute _when he’s embarrassed!_

__As Branch strolled smoothly through the small space, he seemed to exude a curious allure that intrigued her. _What is it about a brainy guy that’s so fascinating?_

As if he could hear her thoughts, the purple-haired troll raised an eyebrow and gave her a sly little smile before resuming the dignified, gracious air that had Chenille cheering him on in delight as her camera flashed.Then Branch lifted his head and squinted slightly, his care lines deepening as he gazed off into the distance. He looked like a troll on a quest for knowledge, searching for some deeply hidden mystery of the forest. One ear tilted a bit, as if listening thoughtfully to some sound only he could hear. __

__Poppy felt a tingle pass through her. Her hands twitched. _Wow. He’s really good at this. He seems so much more mature somehow, more competent, more cultivated. I feel so much more respect for him now._

As he finished posing for Chenille’s camera and headed back behind the panel to change, Poppy mused, _You know, it may not seem like it, but Branch actually has good taste. That outfit is a really accurate reflection his personality, or one facet of it, anyway._ _Maybe this will encourage him to add a little more variety to his wardrobe._

“And now,” Satin announced, “for a classic look that never goes out of style, next we see our beautiful boy Branch sporting a simple white cotton t-shirt, with an unbuttoned white, purple, and blue plaid long-sleeved flannel shirt and dark blue mid-rise jeans. This is a super-versatile outfit that can be worn for either work _or_ pleasure! Our troll is lookin’ mighty fine, wouldn’t you say?”

“He sure is,” Poppy agreed. And man, she wasn’t just being polite!

As he strode across the room, showing off his charisma - among other things – her boyfriend gave her a confident grin and a hitch of his shoulders, making his shirt flare out and drawing attention to his strong, sturdy frame. The full-length straight-legged jeans made his legs appear longer, and their snug fit accentuated his body in all the right places. His hair was back to the slightly more flared version of his usual style, which made her glad. Maybe he was getting used to it.

Busily snapping photos, Chenille cheered encouragingly, “That’s it, Branch! The camera loves you!”

Poppy gave a low whistle, tilting her head to look him up and down. “Look at you. Smart _and_ good with your hands.” She sighed contentedly. _That’s my guy._

__Her guy showed yet another facet of his intriguingly complex nature with the next outfit. Poppy’s eyes widened as Branch stepped out from behind the panel while Satin cheerfully declared, “Let’s change it up a little with this whimsical grass skirt, accented with a long white flower necklace, and a white flower hair-crown. It’s easy, it’s breezy; it’s an outfit that says ‘I’m just here to have fun!’”

“Braanch,” Poppy commented, deliberately raising her eyebrows, her tone somewhere between surprise, delight and amusement. “How unusually capricious of you.”

He went lavender, his hand coming up to fiddle with the flowered necklace that lay against his bare chest. “What? I just threw this in for the heck of it. I thought it was cute.”

“‘Cute’ is the word, all right,” she agreed. “And the outfit’s not the only thing that’s cute.”

All three girls nodded, delighted at how the aquamarine troll put a hand to his cheek as if trying to hide his delightful blush.

_Aww, he’s all self-conscious now. He’s so adorable._

__The downy fibers of the long strands of lavender-green grass whispered against one another as Branch walked and turned, posing a little stiffly this time with his shoulders slightly hunched and his arms straight down at his sides.Poppy’s eyes were drawn to the visible tension in the lightly rounded muscles that were knotting in his shoulders and upper back.

Suddenly she wanted to touch him, to stroke his tension away, to stop everything and give him a good, thorough massage right there. She took a step toward him and stopped, biting her lip as she glanced at their friends. _Somehow I don’t think he’d want me to do that in front of the twins._

_Wait, didn’t he tell me he feels different when he sings? Maybe, like a lot of us, performing brings out the best in him._

“Hey, Branch, let’s have some fun with this. Why don’t you give us a little dance?” Poppy gave him an encouraging look as she made ocean waves in the air with her hands.

“What?”

“Come on, please?”

“Oh, yes!” Chenille chimed in from behind her camera.

“Please, please!” Satin begged. She and Chenille began to hum a two-part harmony, something slow and romantic and just a little bit playful. 

His eyes widened as he looked questioningly at the twins and then up to meet her gaze. She nodded and beamed at him. He hesitated a moment longer, looking to the side, then rolled his eyes with an obliging smile. “Fine.”

Her boyfriend put his hands on his hips and started swaying back and forth, his shoulders unknotting as his rigid stance gradually loosened. The flower crown suited him, she realized, its white blossoms setting off his deep purple hair splendidly. 

She also realized something else, something that had been resonating somewhere in the back of her mind ever since she’d seen his newest outfit _. You know, that crown sort of reminds me of my dad. It feels weird…but also right. Like I’ve settled down inside a deep, cozy cloud of comfort and security._

Poppy began to hum along with the twins, improvising a gentle counterpoint to their tune as her own body began to sway in growing rapport with his. Branch’s eyes shone as he gazed fondly at her, allowing his feelings for her to emerge right there on his face for anyone to see as he moved closer to her, his arms floating as if on the currents of a wind only he could feel. His healthy, agile body flexed smoothly, an undulating river of living bone and muscle with just enough softness to ease his masculine angularity. 

Poppy swallowed as her heart squeezed tight in her chest. She couldn’t have looked away even if a raging bergen came trampling through the village.

At her obvious entrancement, Branch seemed to come to life. From then on, the aquamarine troll danced for his queen alone, his ardent gaze both a challenge and a promise for their future. And Poppy matched him, mirroring every step, the twins and their camera forgotten.

Eventually the dance came to a natural end. Poppy became aware that she and he were nose to nose, their breath mingling, pressing their palms together just as they had on one magical day when a troll queen discovered her lifelong partner just when she needed him most.

“Beautiful…” Satin murmured, reminding Poppy of their audience.

“That was great, guys, but could you, uh…” Chenille swished the back of her hand at Poppy.

“Oh, right.” She let go of him and stepped back out of the way.

Satisfied and serene now, Branch did a leisurely spin, the soft grass fanning out around him. He tipped his face to the sky as his body arched back and his arms and foot came up, fingers and toes pointed high as he rose up onto the toes of his other foot, quivering, as if he were a wild bird about to take flight. He held the breathtaking pose for a long moment, long enough for Poppy to think how glad she was that Chenille was getting all this on film before opening his eyes and dropping his foot to the ground.

“So, you like it?”

“Oh, yes!” all three of them replied without hesitation, then looked at each other.

Branch chuckled lightly. “I meant the outfit.”

While the twins enthusiastically assured him that his outfit was terrific, Poppy eyed the sisters curiously, finally acknowledging the pattern she’d been ignoring up to now. _You know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d almost think they had a thing for him._

Then she shrugged, not really worried. She knew her boyfriend. Whatever else he was, Branch was constant, and while that occasionally could be incredibly frustrating when it nudged over into the ‘unreasonably stubborn’ category, it also meant that he was unlikely to respond to romantic overtures from other trolls.

_Besides, I’m actually kind of glad if he has other admirers. It’s good for him to see that other people besides me find him attractive. I still feel kind of bad that I didn’t realize that before._

__Poppy turned to her happy boyfriend, admiring the way the care lines crinkled at the corners of his eyes, adorably pleased with himself. “That was _fantastic,_ Branch. And you look really, really good. I can hardly wait to see the next one,” she told him earnestly.

His face lit up. “And I can hardly wait to show it to you.”

When he stepped out from behind the panel, Satin said, “For a look that says casual comfort, here we see Branch wearing a chic, pale pink silk vest and white twill shorts. Note the attractive purple-and-green scrolled-leaf design embroidered in glossy bright thread along the edges of this lightweight silk vest. The shorts have neat rolled cuffs that end just above the knee, and just look at that cute little heart made of tiny pink beads on the back left hip. Yes, people, this outfit is perfect for enjoying a simple, laidback day spent with someone special.”

Poppy felt her mouth curve in a smile.This outfit…it looked _right_ on him,stirring a hint of nostalgic comfort, although it took her a moment to realize that it was basically a recreation of his own favorite vest-and-shorts outfit, with his hair still in the more free, Poppy-inspired style.

But what a _difference_ it made, when the fabric was fresh and new and expertly stitched, beautifully tailored to show off every curve and crevice to maximum advantage! The silk vest curved in slightly at his waist and draped smoothly over his hips, giving him a longer, more streamlined shape, and the shorts sat a little lower on his hips and hugged his bottom just right. His own shorts were shapeless and bulky in comparison, and while his leaf-vest was cute, it was a little too short and had a tendency to bunch up in an unflattering way sometimes. __

__This new outfit gave the impression of a strong, lively, fun-loving troll with a down-to-earth, caring nature - and a quirky sense of humor, too! _And doesn’t that just describe my best-friend-turned-boyfriend to a T!_

“Wow, it’s really _you,_ Branch,” she declared as he posed with his back to her. Teasingly he canted his hip to show off the little heart on his butt, looking at her over his shoulder and making pouty kissy-faces that had the twins gleefully egging him on while Chenille busily snapped photos from every angle. 

Poppy had to laugh. _What a ham._

Poppy was thoroughly enjoying herself, and from the looks of her boyfriend, so was he. For most of his life, the only time Branch had ever seemed to want attention was to pass along grimly foreboding messages that for the most part, no one really wanted to hear. Even Poppy had eventually gotten to the point where she disregarded most of what he said, dismissing his fears as unfounded, and because of that, it had been hard not to dismiss him, too.

She had often regretted encounters with him later. Her vague sense of guilt was one of the reasons she’d gone to such elaborate lengths to craft specially tailored invitations for him. But now…

_I’m so glad we’re past all that now. Everything is going to be smooth sailing from now on. I just know it!_

Satin’s dramatic tone set the stage for Branch’s final presentation.

“All eyes will be on him as he passes by wearing this dapper light-coral suit, white jacquard dress shirt, and sky-blue silk necktie that brings out the pretty eyes of our charming man. The stylish two-button jacket and matching slacks are made from beautiful lightweight linen with a subtle, pleasing texture, just right for catching someone’s eye. He looks like a real dreamboat, doesn’t he? Classy white wingtip brogues and a matching light-coral fedora complete this elegant picture.”

Elegant. Poppy had never really thought of Branch as elegant. Strong, yes. Smart, of course. Handsome, most definitely. He was her best friend; a quirky, caring buddy, but although he had his own unique style, it certainly wasn’t the kind of style that impressed people.

But today…well.

_My my my. Clothes really do make the man._

If he had been Cloud Guy, he couldn’t have glided by her any more smoothly. The very air around him seemed to shimmer and sparkle, marking his suave passage in a way that literally made her shiver with awe and delight. 

The soft peachy-pink color looked beautiful on him, enhancing his fine aquamarine skin so that it shone with a heathy warm glow. His deep purple hair was swept back into smooth wings on either side of the dashing fedora, gracefully merging behind his head into a soft tip. He was cool as mint and hot as spicy nachos. 

She sighed longingly. Their official first date was still two long days away…

Branch had a faraway look in his eyes, as if musing on the big questions in life. He slid a hand into his pocket, his stance easy, aesthetic and absolutely enchanting. Then he smiled, just a little, and her breath caught in her throat. How captivating he was!

“How do I look?”

For the first time in her life, the queen of the trolls found herself without words. She could only look at him, filling her eyes and her heart with his wonderful presence, mutely appreciating the way he’d so steadfastly committed himself to becoming such a big part of her life no matter what he had to do to stay by her side. 

On the surface it seemed only he had changed, but she knew that she had grown, as well. Thanks to him, she was not the same person she’d been a year ago. In coming to know the former lone wolf, she had learned new depths and ways of caring that she might never have known.

“Poppy?”

Branch was looking at her uncertainly, his forehead wrinkling. She had to hold back a powerful urge to kiss him on the nose.

“Sorry, um, you look-” She gasped for air. “Good. Really, really good,” she babbled, a silly, nervous laugh bubbling up and spilling out of her mouth. “Who _are_ you? I mean, I know who you are but where have you been hiding all this time and why can’t I stop talking and-” She covered her mouth, staring at him with big eyes, the corners of her wide, foolish grin peeking out from behind her hand.

Through her verbal waterfall his expression went from concern to surprise. Then a sleek dark eyebrow lifted and he gave her a knowing little smile. His stance relaxed and he turned to give her a coy glance from the corner of his eye; a perfect three-quarter view that he obviously knew would let her see him in his best light.

Chenille jumped at the chance, her camera popping like popcorn as the chosen one of the queen of the trolls strolled grandly through the small area, his presence somehow making it seem like a much larger space, moving with the kind of dignity and grace that Poppy herself still had trouble achieving. Suddenly she saw him as he would be in his middle years, poised, stately, vigorous, with a twinkle in his eye; his care lines framing a confident face made ever more handsome by years of experience. 

“Oh. My. Gosh!” Poppy gushed, bouncing up and down. “Branch, you are -” _one gorgeous troll_ “- I can’t even.” She fanned her face with her hand, as if he were too pretty to look at, and he and the twins laughed.

After Chenille had exhausted all possible shots of Branch, including ones where she had him holding props and standing in front of a fan that made his hair and clothes move becomingly in the breeze, Satin asked, “Okay, Poppy, which outfit do you like the best?”

She opened her mouth to gladly praise the beautiful creature standing in front of her and then remembered his look of pride from earlier outfits. “Gee, you guys have made it really hard to decide…”

All three of them looked pleased at that.

“But if I had to choose…” She twiddled her fingers, her eyes flicking back and forth in the air as more memories emerged. “Ooo, gosh, I loved _all_ of them!” She danced in place, her indecision visible. “I can’t decide.”

Branch exchanged glances with the twins. “Well, thanks, but you kind of have to. I can’t exactly wear all of them.”

She brightened. “Hey-”

“And I’m _not_ going to spend the entire day changing outfits,” he said firmly, crossing his arms. In his fine new suit, even that pose looked cool.

“Aw…” She pushed out her lower lip for a moment, then sighed. “Okay. Then may I see the pictures you took of the other outfits?”

The sisters gave her a set of pictures from each photo session. “Keep them. We took plenty.”

There were enough pictures for both Poppy and Branch to have a set. She handed him his stack, which he tucked carefully into his hair, and that reminded her of something. Poppy pulled out the scrapbook she had begun earlier that day and lost herself for a few minutes in her favorite hobby.

_I’ll do a pair of us per page. Let’s see… Scholar and Velvet. Plaid and Puffball. Grass Skirt and Nature Girl. Silk Vest and Frills. And finally…Elegant Pastel and Twinkling Rose Sundress._

She admired her work for a moment before looking up to find her friends patiently waiting.

“Huh?” Satin blinked and leaned over to look at the front of the scrapbook. A loud _pop_ was heard when her heavy beaded dress made her lose her balance and fall into her sister’s flouncy balloon dress. 

Chenille pushed her back upright, scowling. “Satin!”

“Sorry,” she said, sounding distracted. “Poppy, why does it say ‘ice cream’ on the cover?”

“What?” Chenille’s rainbow-colored balloons bobbled as she bent down to look at the cover, which had a simple woven-wool ice cream cone with two scoops made from shiny pink and turquoise satin. 

Satin continued, “Shouldn’t it say ‘Our First-”

“Bead Festival,” Chenille glared at her sister, who shrugged.

“Oh…” Poppy exchanged a glance at Branch, who gestured at her as if to say it was up to her whether she wanted to explain. She looked at her friends’ curious faces and remembered the promise she and Branch had made that morning. 

_‘If anyone asks us outright if we’re dating, we’ll say yes.’_

But the twins didn’t exactly ask that…

__She had thought she was ready to share their secret, but that same strange reluctance - to hide the joyful news from her good friends, the very people who were most likely to make a big deal out of it - rose up to cut off her words. _I’m not. I’m not ready._ She didn’t want to let go of the precious newfound sense of intimacy with Branch just yet.

“It’s sort of a joke,” she said abruptly. “One of those ‘you had to be there’ things. You understand.”

The sisters exchanged slightly puzzled frowns before Satin smiled gently at the new couple. “Of course.”

“We understand,” Chenille agreed. 

“So, which one will it be?” Branch grinned cheerfully at her, clearly in a good mood now, and she was reminded anew that his smiling face was one of her favorite sights. His new suit framed that sight beautifully.

She smiled back. “I’d say you saved the best for last. Dreamboat Branch wins.”

“Yes!” Satin and Branch high-fived.

“But…” She pressed her knuckles into her chin, holding her elbow with her other hand as a new thought occurred to her. 

“But?”

“This outfit is almost _too_ fancy to wear to a Bead Festival. Maybe you should save it for more formal events, like grand balls and weddings-” As she met his eyes she couldn’t help but blush, and watched his own eyes widen before he looked away bashfully, his cheeks touched with lavender. “And…other special occasions.”

He took a deep breath, and she got the sense that he was trying to cool off, his emotions all stirred up now. “Well then, which outfit would be most appropriate for today?”

Poppy smiled down at their ‘Unofficial First Date’ scrapbook, giving him a chance to collect himself as she slowly turned the pages. She knew that each outfit had been carefully chosen to highlight his best traits. Scholarly Branch. Cool Branch. Fun Branch. Dreamboat Branch.

And then…there was the Branch who was her best friend.

“You know, it’s a little warm out today. How about something light and breezy?”

“Light and breezy, eh? So, either the grass skirt or the vest and shorts combo,” he determined, sounding much more like himself.

Poppy nodded. “Frankly, I’m kinda leaning toward the grass skirt, but from past experience I know that they can get itchy after a while. They’re really better for short-term events, not all-day festivals. Besides, this outfit-” she pointed to the picture of Branch in the silk vest, “-feels right. Like it represents not only who you used to be, but also whom you’ve become.”

He brightened. “I like that.”

“So do we,” the twins chorused.

Branch nodded decisively. “Vest and shorts it is.” He looked happy with the decision.

_He’ll_ _be more comfortable in an outfit more like what he usually wears._ Poppy grinned impishly. _And if the wind should happen to frequently blow that lightweight silk vest open, well, I certainly won’t object to the view._

__“Your turn,” she said to him cheerfully. “Which outfit am I wearing today?”

“May I?” He reached out a hand toward the scrapbook and she passed it to him.

He spent some time studying the five pages before commenting, “Tough choice. You look fantastic in everything.”

“Aww…” the twins cooed, hands pressed to their faces.

“Thank you.” Poppy swayed back and forth, pleased.

“But if I had to pick…” His face softened and he ran his fingers gently down the image of his love wearing the enchanting white dress that twinkled with rainbow lights, and then looked up at her. “I’m gonna take a page out of your scrapbook and say that for today’s festival, I like what you’ve got on right now.”

“Really?” She blinked. _I thought for sure he’d pick that white sundress. I mean, he was saying poetry and everything…_

__He saw her surprise and explained, “I love you in your white dress, but like you said, it might be a little too fanc-ahh!”

Poppy leaped higher than Branch as the twins let out matching earsplitting shrieks.

“What in the _world-”_ he demanded, his voice all high-pitched and breathy, one hand over his heart.

“What’s wrong?” Poppy demanded anxiously at the same time.

“What you said!” both twins shouted unhelpfully, jumping up and down with glee. Or rather, Satin merely jiggled in place as much as the weight of her dress would let her, but Chenille made up for it, a mass of colorful balloons springing halfway to the top of the tent.

“What?” Poppy looked at Branch, who shrugged with frustrated bewilderment as he handed her scrapbook back to her. Poppy stowed it in her hair as Branch turned back to the twins.

_“Please_ make sense,” he pleaded wearily.

The sisters beamed at one another before Satin said, “Oh, don’t mind us. We just get excited sometimes.”

“Yes, Satin is very excitable.”

“Hey! You jumped higher than I did!”

“That’s only because of that anchor you call a dress!”

Poppy groaned. _“Girls!_ Please.” She resisted the urge to drop her forehead into the palm of her hand, then gave in, pressing the heel of her hand against the tense ridges between her eyes to smooth them before they turned into a headache. Sometimes the twins could try even her patience.

A large warm hand began to soothingly rub her back. For just a moment, she let herself lean into it, feeling all her tension melt away even before she looked up to meet his gentle smile. “Thanks, Branch.”

“Anytime, Poppy,” he said warmly. “I’ve been there.”

She smiled back, silently vowing to return the favor the next time he needed to be soothed.

“So, Branch, why did you choose this outfit?” Chenille said suddenly, gesturing at the yellow and green ruffled blouse and skirt Poppy wore.

Poppy instantly missed his warm touch as he pulled his hand away, looking a little flustered, as if he’d forgotten what they were doing.

“Um, the sunshine outfit?” He shrugged. “Well… It’s dressy, but not _too_ dressy, if you know what I mean. I figure it will go nicely with my outfit.”

“You have unexpectedly good taste, Branch,” Chenille either didn’t notice or pretended not to notice the sour look Branch sent in her direction. “I would have expected you to go for Nature Girl.”

“Oh, believe me, it wasn’t an easy choice. But I liked the way we looked together on this page.” He held up the scrapbook, which was turned to the Silk Dress and Frills page. Then he shot Poppy a panicked look. “Not that it matters what we look like together!”

“Right, right, it’s not like we’re going for matching outfits or anything!” She gave a flustered laugh.

The twins sensed the sudden tension, but just as Satin began to open her mouth Branch blurted out, “Well I’m gonna go change now!” He disappeared behind the wooden panel, leaving Poppy to stand there awkwardly trying to pretend that his strange behavior was just Branch being Branch.

-O-

I changed as fast as I could, sliding the four outfits I wasn’t using into my hair. It was a good thing troll hair could hold a lot more than it looked like it ought to. Not for the first time, I wondered about the physics involved – did each troll’s hair generate its own virtual cloud, a sort of pocket universe? For all we could tell, the space seemed infinite, but then, we carried trollings in our hair without losing them, so there had to be more to it…

As I let my hair lift and fluff out into its new, freer hairstyle, I let my mind muse over the last hour. I had enjoyed choosing clothes with Satin. I had enjoyed the photoshoot, too, but I think what I really enjoyed most was all the warm, positive feedback. It was still new to me, and very much appreciated, to know that other trolls did more than just benevolently tolerate me. It made me feel as if I was finally earning my place among my fellow trolls.

I finished getting dressed and joined Poppy just as three Hug Time bracelets went off. Both twins threw their arms around me, leaving Poppy to hug the three of us. I was a little disappointed to not get another exclusive hug from my girl, but I loved hugging my friends, too, especially after sharing such an unexpectedly awesome experience with them.

Satin’s beaded dress was kind of hard and stiff to hug, and Chenille lost another balloon by the time the flowers closed. I suppressed a smile. _At the rate she’s going, she’s not going to have any balloons left by the end of the day._

As the hug ended, we all let go and Poppy thanked the twins for all their help. “The outfit you chose for me really _was_ the perfect one,” she told Chenille, then turned to head outside. I added my own heartfelt thanks and began to follow.

“Hey, Branch?” said Satin.

As I turned around, I felt again a gentle pinch on both cheeks. Fortunately, the cheeks _above_ my shoulders, this time. The twins had kind of weirded me out last time, almost like they were touching me the same way Poppy had yesterday, but now they were back to normal. I guess they’d just been surprised to notice the difference in me and wanted to indulge their curiosity.

I looked from one to the other as they smiled kindly at me.

“We just wanted to say, whoever you end up with is going to be one lucky troll.”

“Yeah, you’re a real pretty boy.”

With a self-conscious smile, I put a hand up to rub the back of my neck. “Thanks.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the final outfit, the light coral-colored suit, I was picturing a typical anime scene such as when a student everyone admires practically sparkles as they walk past their classmates into school while everyone swoons. The ‘spicy nachos’ thing was a reference to the episode ‘Branch Bum’ when Branch freaks out because he gets covered in nacho cheese and Poppy tastes it and gives him a disdainful look worthy of Branch himself as she points out, ‘It’s not even spicy.” Makes me laugh every time. :D
> 
> For the winning outfits, I chose typical ‘date’ outfits that were also fairly similar to their usual clothes, in order to most accurately reflect their personalities. Of course, Branch also liked Poppy’s because it reminded him of his favorite nickname for her! I didn’t want their outfits to be too-obviously matching since our favorite couple is still on the fence about letting people know they’re dating, but I did give them matching leaf-themed elements.
> 
> I bet you can guess why the twins were flipping out, but I don’t want to say anything definite until we get to a certain scene I’ve got planned that takes place the next day (in this story).
> 
> Man, this chapter took a _lot_ of research to write! I had fun, though. I found some beautiful pictures online of light pink and coral suits for men. I actually ended up looking at doll outfits, too, because trolls are built proportionally more like children, and also because I found a set of Branch and Poppy stuffed toys that I couldn’t resist. I discovered that they were the right size to wear standard 18” doll clothes such as those for American Girl dolls, and spent weeks having fun looking at thousands of different outfits, online and in stores, including two little local shops that had beautiful hand-made doll clothes.
> 
> It was actually harder to choose clothes for Poppy because there are so many styles out there for girls, which is why I had a big long list of potential outfits for Poppy in the last chapter. 
> 
> For Branch, I knew I wanted at least one offbeat outfit, and in keeping with the trolls’ culture, I decided that no one would care if a male wears the color pink, or a skirt. I very much support the creators’ messages of tolerance and acceptance, and also I honestly think pink goes beautifully with most shades of blue, purple, teal and aquamarine, so I knew I wanted that to be the color of the winning outfit. Branch is only embarrassed because it’s a very whimsical, playful sort of outfit for someone as practical as he is.
> 
> I got the idea for the cute little heart on his butt from the Care Bears and the My Little Pony shows.
> 
> When I got to the writing part, I discovered that writing what amounts to appealing advertisements took much, _much_ longer than I thought it would. It’s not as easy as marketing people make it look! 
> 
> How’d I do? Does the language seem natural, or out of place? Did you have trouble picturing what things looked like? Which outfits did you like best?


	16. The Incident

As I walked out of the tent, I saw Poppy make a shooing motion with her hand at someone.

“Something wrong?” I scanned the passing festivalgoers, but no one seemed to be paying us any attention.

“Oh, no, someone was just asking me for…advice about something.”

“Oh, really?” I commented with a fake air of nonchalance. “Is this for that thing you’re planning that involves me that you don’t want to tell me about?”

“Maybe,” she admitted, and gave me a smile that was half sincere, half nervous, but she didn’t elaborate.

My good mood burst. “Aw, come on, Poppy!”

“Sorry…” She leaned forward, ducking her head a little as she tried to appease me.

I tried to avoid her big puppy-dog eyes, flinging my head back to growl up at the trees high above us as my hands clenched at my sides. She waited. Finally I peeked at her, standing there with her hands clasped in front of her, leaning toward me and giving me that hopeful little smile.

I huffed. Irritated or not, I wasn’t ready to spoil the good time we’d just had. “This is _really_ frustrating,” I grumbled, gritting my teeth as I tried to rein in my temper.

“I know, Branch.” She gave me a sympathetic look. “Please try to be patient. It’ll be worth it. I’m sure it will be...” she mumbled under her breath, but my keen hearing caught it.

I crossed my arms and scowled at the perky pink pest. “You know, I get the distinct impression that you really _don’t_ know how this crazy plan of yours is going to turn out.”

She put an arm around my shoulders and lifted her other hand, grandly sweeping it through the air like the lovable, overenthusiastic [drama] queen she was. “And yet we’re going through with it anyway! Isn’t optimism wonderful?” she said blithely.

I rolled my eyes, trying to hide the smile that wanted to break through.

“Good job verbalizing your feelings, by the way,” she added unexpectedly. “I’m proud of you.”

I uncrossed my arms as I blinked, losing my grip on my grumpy mood. I knew what she meant. In the past I used to completely lose my cool when I was angry or upset; criticizing, shouting, stomping my feet, throwing and breaking things. Since I’d finally learned how to be happy, negative emotions just didn’t have the power to bite me as deeply or trap me in their grip the way they used to.

Part of that of course was because of my ever-growing closeness to Poppy, ever since the Trollstice incident. But it was also because I was more social than I had ever been. Now, when I got upset, I had people to lend a sympathetic ear; people who cared, people to whom I truly mattered. That made it easier to get it all out before it had a chance to build up inside me and explode in a rush of undeserved fury upon the nearest target.

Like now, feeling the last of my irritation melt away and welcoming the warm spread of comfort that replaced it. “Thanks,” I replied, and added honestly, “I’m proud of me, too.”

“Trying a new look, Branch? I like it,” came the voice of Fizzy Speckles as he trotted past, carrying two buckets full of cold water. I guessed he was going to refill the small covered tub in which he kept his chocolates cool, floating in their watertight gourd bowls. _A sensible precaution, considering how sunny it is. Unless we get an un-serendipitous visit from a certain infuriating cloud, it feels like it’s going to be fairly warm out today._

__Seeing Fizzy reminded me of the chocolate caramels I’d enjoyed, and how Poppy had run off and we’d enjoyed some privacy and singing…and flirting…and…

“Uh, thanks, Fizzy,” I belatedly called after him, hauling my mind back to the present. 

_Man, I haven’t been this fuzzy-brained in years._ I shook my head vigorously, feeling my new, longer hair catch the air. Poppy’s unexpected confession had awoken the starry-eyed romantic in me, leaving me apt to drift off ridiculously easily into a world of rainbow sparkles and sunshine. And I couldn’t be happier about that. 

Fizzy’s compliment was only the first of many. 

“How nice you look today!”

“You look good in pink, Branch. You should wear it more often.”

“Hey, lookin’ spiffy, Branch, my man.”

A few trolls commented on Poppy’s pretty outfit, but not nearly as many as I would have expected. _But then, she wears a lot of different outfits._ I only had one preferred style, so even when I wore a new set of clothes, no one had ever seemed to notice. _Well, except for Poppy, of course._ Her attention to detail was good for more than just scrapbooking.

My thoughts caught. _You know, she said she wanted to get to know me better even when I was gray. So maybe she had other reasons to notice what I was wearing back then…_

__Poppy’s voice woke me from the contemplative state I hadn’t been aware I’d fallen into yet again. “Everyone really seems to like your new outfit, Branch. We should do something nice for the twins to thank them for all their help.”

“Yeah,” I agreed, my mind shifting course to settle on my recent conversation with Satin. “Poppy, have you ever suspected that the twins aren’t really stuck together at all?”

“What?” She gave me an astonished look. “Of course they are. They were born that way.”

“I know, but what I mean is, did you ever notice that Satin’s hair grows out from her head a light green, and Chenille’s is a light blue?”

“I guess so, but what difference does that make?”

“It means that really they aren’t one, singular troll. If they wanted, we could probably separate-”

“Branch! How _could_ you?” Taken aback, I cringed at her stern tone, my ears pulled back against the sides of my head. My girlfriend threw her hands into the air, looking outraged; as close as most trolls besides me could get to condemnation. “There’s nothing wrong with them! They’re twins, and their hair is one of the things that makes them special and unique!”

Glancing furtively around, I was glad to see that no one seemed to have been close enough to have heard us talking. Thankfully, by now everyone was used to Poppy overreacting to some of the stuff I said, so no one seemed inclined to freak out like they had earlier, with all the panic about Poppy going gray again.

I hadn’t realized that other trolls besides me still worried about that. At least none of them had my secret qualm; that Poppy had learned how to be gray and negative from me, even as I’d been learning how to be happy and positive from her. 

But just in case, I took her hand and pulled her away from the marketplace, taking cover behind some tall grassfronds. She let me guide her, but put her hands indignantly on her hips once we stopped moving and glared at me.

I sighed. _Looks like she’s not going to forgive me that easily._ I took a deep breath and said placatingly, “Of course they’re special, Poppy. I know that. They’re my friends.” Hunching my shoulders, I tried again. “But it’s only hair, Poppy. It wouldn’t hurt them.”

She huffed. “Maybe not physically, but how about psychologically? Hasn’t it occurred to you that if they wanted to be apart, they would have cut it by now?”

“Would they, though?” I held out my hands to the sides, palms up. “Maybe they just feel that they _have_ to be together because everyone expects them to be. Unique, as you said. That’s one of the things they’re known for, right?”

“I-” Her eyes widened, and she took a step back, a hint of uncertainty filtering through her challenging posture. “I guess so, but…you make it sound like a bad thing. Listen, Branch,” she said sincerely, “it’s important to accept people for who they are. You wouldn’t say anything to a troll whose eyes were a little wonky, would you?”

“I would if they caused him the kinds of problems the twins’ hair causes them.”

“Problems? What problems?” She shook her head. “Sure, they argue sometimes, but-”

I put an awkward hand on her shoulder, a little embarrassed at having to spell it out, but after the way they’d acted today when they saw me with no clothes on... 

“Poppy…they’re adults now. What if one of them wants to get married someday?”

“Oh.” For a moment she looked pensive, then shrugged off both my hand and her worries. “I guess I always assumed they would just marry the same troll.”

That was something I hadn’t considered. “Well, I suppose that would work,” I said thoughtfully, “if they were all happy with that arrangement. But what if each of them wants to marry a different troll?”

Her eyes widened. There was a longer pause this time and I watched her pink face grow pinker. “Yeaaah, that might be a little awkward,” Poppy finally admitted. “That might be a little _too_ much sharing, even for trolls.”

I smiled slightly. “Poppy, you know me. One of the things I’m good at is anticipating problems and coming up with solutions - and for all you try to pretend otherwise, I know you see this problem, too. As the queen, you have a duty to look out for trolls who have unique problems, right? Isn’t it a good thing to try and address them instead of pretending nothing’s wrong?”

“Well…” Her body slumped in defeat. “What could we do? I can’t just tell them that they should – I couldn’t possibly – I can’t even imagine them like that.” She gave me such a look of distress that I put my arms around her without a care that some troll might spot us hugging when it wasn’t Hug Time. My young queen clung to me for a long moment and I rubbed her tense back gently, trying to soothe her unexpected agitation. _I had no idea this would upset her so much. Good thing I didn’t say anything to the twins directly._

__“Sorry, Poppy. I didn’t meant to pressure you. It’s not exactly urgent; I just feel like we should all let them know we’re open to the idea of them being two separate individuals. That we appreciate _each_ of them for who she is, and that we’d be just as happy to hear two great soloists as we are to hear a duet.”

“Aw, Branch…that’s so sweet.”

I felt her relax against me, her soft body and sweet scent enveloping me in comfort. I hoped that I was doing the same for her. Softly, I said, “Listen, Poppy, I didn’t grow up with them like you all did, but it seems to me that everyone thinks of them as a single, fixed unit, together forever.”

“Of course they are; they’re twins.”

“So if they cut their hair they won’t be twins anymore?”

“Yes! Wait… Oh.” She went quiet, then said slowly, “I see what you’re getting at. They’ll always have that bond, physical ties or no. Huh. I’ve never thought of it quite like that before.”

“See,” I stepped back and held up a finger as I gave her a look that was only slightly smug. “This is one of those times when seeing things from an outsider’s perspective is a good thing.”

“You’re not an outsider, Branch.”

“Maybe not now, but I was. By choice, maybe, but I definitely was.”

She was silent for a minute, and then murmured, “Maybe you weren’t as much of an outsider as you think, Branch.”

“Come again?”

“Nothing.” She twirled out of my embrace and grabbed my hand. “Oh, come on, we’re at a festival. Let’s go boingo-riding!”

“I’m up for that,” I agreed, glad to see her spunk back. As I followed her back into the throng, I made a mental note to be more careful of what I said to her. _Is it just my imagination, or is Poppy more touchy than she used to be? Is it because she’s the queen now? Or…is it because of me?_

__-O-

A few minutes later we were bouncing and bopping and stretching and twisting, clutching the rough, scratchy ropes tied through the center of each hollow-centered berry. Boingo fruits came in many different colors and were highly resilient to being squashed; in fact, the original game came about because someone had discovered that the desserts made from boingo fruit were sweeter when the pulp was crushed first.

I loved the challenge of riding them - boingo fruits were twice as high as a troll and nearly oval in shape so that they rarely went exactly where you wanted them to go.

My sore stomach muscles _really_ didn’t want to work at first, but after they’d had a chance to warm up they actually felt a lot better. Poppy didn’t seem quite as incapacitated as I’d felt at first, but then, she was more used to the kind of boundless laughter we’d enjoyed last night. It had been another new experience for me; a precious memory now.

The boingo fruit riding range was at the edge of the market square, in a large meadow perfect for racing, and so we did, laughing and whooping and just generally enjoying ourselves in a way that had once seemed so foreign to me, so pointless and wrong. Now I thrived on such fun, especially when I was with Poppy.

My spunky queen won the first two races, but I made a victorious comeback in the last one, winning by virtue of my impressive nose. 

Like a good sport, she clapped her hands and cheered for me. I grinned at her, feeling happy and sweaty and beginning to think about what I wanted for lunch when she leaned forward and blew me a kiss! My ears went hot and I glanced around quickly, but none of the merrily jouncing trolls around us seemed to have noticed anything, so I turned back to her and grinned. I felt a lot better now that I’d managed to work off some steam and ease the tension between us.

For a while, I’d actually managed to forget that she loved me. Romantically, I mean. I’d known I had the special love Poppy reserved for her closest friends ever since the bergen escapade, just as she’d had mine. I hadn’t quite realized then that she had my heart, too. After all, what could a hermit truly know of love? For years now, I’d told myself the poetry I’d written was just natural admiration for a terrific person. As if she would ever be interested in someone like me, anyway.

_But she is,_ I mused absently, not noticing that my movements on the boingo fruit were gradually slowing down. My stomach felt fluttery in a way that had nothing to do with my sore muscles as I let my gaze follow the one troll who could stir up such emotions in me. _She notices me now._ _She wants to kiss me, and cuddle with me._ I swallowed. _She even wants to play bedroom games with me._

_Poppy and me, together…_ What would it be like? Curiosity, nervousness, eagerness, anticipation – an onslaught of emotions dragged me this way and that, blocking out everything else. I couldn’t help but imagine kissing Poppy. I’d press my lips to hers, pull her close to me and then- 

“Look out!”

The frantic shout came just as two boingo fruits slammed into my stationary one from opposite sides, squashing it and shooting me skyward like one of Cooper's rockets. I yelped and windmilled my arms as I came down, ramming into one boingo fruit after another as the trolls on them squawked and shouted. _Boom! Bam! Badoomba! Dum-dum-dum-dum-dum!_

__I was richocheting so fast I could barely see anything but whirling scenery. “Help!” I howled.

“Branch!” A stream of magenta shot toward me and I flung out my own hair to twine with hers. She yanked me hard to the side and I spotted my abandoned blue boingo fruit coming at me and flipped in midair to hit it butt-first. I managed to snag the rope as the oversized fruit rebounded into the air, my arms practically yanked from their sockets as I hitched and hopped, scrambling to stay topside and regain control over what felt like a bucking deerwing.

“Whew!” I said as I regained equilibrium. I looked around dizzily to see everyone staring at me. Half the trolls I’d hit were on the ground, glaring up at me after being knocked off their boingo fruits by the unexpected, chaotic projectile. Me.

“Heh heh, sorry, guys,” I put a hand on the back of my neck, knowing I was probably purple with embarrassment. “Just got a little distracted. My bad!”

“Is everyone all right?” Poppy called out, and got a chorus of affirmatives as everyone began to get up and remount their boingo fruits. Soon the field was a mass of bouncing colors again, like rainbow drops on a trampoline.

As my dizziness began to wane I moved my limbs and twisted my neck and spine assessingly and started to notice a few sore spots that would no doubt become bruises soon. I groaned, a little theatrically.

“Branch, are you okay?” Poppy had stayed by my side and turned to give me a look of concern.

“I think I wrenched my everything, but yeah. No serious injuries.”

“Thank goodness.” She put a hand on her chest in relief, and then did a complete about-face and scowled at me. “Branch, what were you thinking? You could have caused a serious accident!”

I winced at her volume. “Since when do you care about accidents?” I said defensively.

“Since you stopped caring, apparently. Maybe we _should_ mandate helmets for boingo riding if even you, despite your excessive emphasis on safety protocols, managed to end up like the ball at a buzzyball game.”

“I didn’t follow them,” I muttered. I hated to admit it, especially because right before we started, I’d just reminded Poppy and those trolls currently riding boingo fruits about the importance of paying attention to the other riders, holding on tightly to the coarse boingo ropes and moving with the flow of traffic, but I didn’t want people to think the fault lay with my protocols.

“What? I’m sorry; I didn’t hear you.” Poppy gave me a curious look.

I growled and repeated deliberately, “I said I didn’t. Follow. My protocols.”

Every troll there gasped loudly, heads swiveling toward me and boingo fruits ceasing to bounce.

“Oh my gad,” came Smidge's unmistakable throaty voice, even though I didn’t see her nearby. 

Poppy gave me a strange look halfway between bewilderment and annoyance. “For hair’s sake, why not?”

Cooper's voice rang out, “Yeah, you always scold _us_ when we don’t follow your fanatical safety-" 

Poppy and I looked around, but wherever he was, Cooper didn’t finish his sentence and I was too busy squirming under the combined stares of a dozen gaping trolls to think about it. Really, it felt like I was being blasted by a spotlight. 

_Oh wait, I am._

__I lifted my forearm to shade my eyes and glared up at the source of the blinding light. “Do you _mind?”_ I demanded indignantly.

“Sorry!” several voices replied, and the spotlight cut off.

Poppy ignored the whole exchange. “Branch, what happened?”

I was back to squirming again, and I did _not_ enjoy it. “I was distracted, okay? Accidents happen. That’s why helmets are a good idea!”

To my surprise, every troll there nodded. I heard one troll comment to his neighbor, “That makes sense. If it can happen to Branch, it can happen to anyone.”

Poppy and I exchanged surprised glances, then smiled at each other. “That’s right, everyone,” I announced. “No one is perfect. We should all take my, uh, mishap as a lesson and make the right choice: to choose to wear helmets whenever we ride boingo fruit. After all, it only takes one second for an accident to cause permanent bodily harm...”

I would have continued with my lecture, enjoying having the attentive ear of every troll there, but Poppy interrupted. “Good idea, Branch. Thank you for that _brief_ and graphic demonstration of the dangers of boingo fruit riding. Everyone, I’ll see about getting some helmets for-" 

Suddenly a pink helmet came flying through the air toward her and she caught it neatly with her hair, staring at it in puzzlement. “Where – who -" 

More helmets of various types and colors showered down on us and we all caught them. Poppy peered up at the trees above us, shading her eyes, but apparently couldn’t see where they were coming from any more than I could. She called out, “Thank you, mysterious benefactor!”

A voice I thought I recognized started to reply, “You’re wel-” and cut off. Poppy waited for a moment, but it was silent.

She looked at me. “If you weren’t here I’d have thought it was you. Do you know who that was?”

I shrugged, donning my helmet, sliding my hair through the opening in the top that allowed my hair stay free in case I needed to use it. “This is one mystery I’m happy to leave unsolved.” Actually, I was beginning to suspect what was going on, but if I was right, I wasn’t about to interfere. _Thank you, indeed._

As much as I hated to admit it, this wasn’t the first time I’d made such a public mistake. I’d made worse ones, including one for which I’d paid a pretty high price.

-O-

When I was twelve, I got a pod of my own.

After two years of living under the stabilizing influence of Courtley and his husband Jaunty, I’d improved a lot. I was still gray, still by no means a ‘normal’ troll, but I had grown from an intense, high-strung, wiry little trolling into someone calmer and more confident. Both academically and socially, I was doing well in school; I’d had relatively few conflicts with the other trollings, and none at all in the past six months.

I felt better physically, as well. Living with two super-athletic trolls meant lots of extra exercise every day, which gave me a huge appetite for the healthy foods we all cooked and ate together, and deep, nightmare-free sleep most of the time. I was bigger and stronger, too, catching up to and even surpassing most of my classmates in size, which had also done a lot for my sense of self-assurance. I didn’t feel quite so helpless anymore. 

And while I still wasn’t comfortable in some social situations, I could handle myself better, and had even made a few friends, mainly older trolls who shared my interests.

Laurel Whizbang was one of them. I had gotten to know her when my newest foster parents had asked her parents for help in modifying their pod to allow me to have a room of my own for my tenth birthday. Finetune and Savvy Whizbang had been happy to help, and during the construction I had met their daughter, Laurel.

At fourteen to my ten, Laurel was in a different class at school and so had never had to deal with my moody, irritable nature as my own classmates had, which made it easier to start our friendship off on a positive note.

A pretty, vivacious, light-magenta troll with lemon-yellow hair, grass-green eyes and a cool mid-green nose, Laurel Whizbang was really smart and nice and already planning to follow in her parents’ footsteps. It was fun to listen to her enthusiastic responses whenever I asked a question about building stuff, or ‘engineering’ as she called it, and before I knew it, I became interested in it, too.

Two years had gone by much faster than I would have guessed, and while I hadn’t forgotten the bergens, I _had_ been able to find other ways to deal with my fears, such as using the constant exercise to both work off my anxiety and train my body to be in top shape for the day they finally came for us. I was also experimenting with building things that could help defend the village.

Through it all, Jaunty and Courtley had been as caring and supportive as any trolling could wish for. Out of all the foster parents I’d ever had, they’d come the closest to truly understanding me. _If only I hadn’t overheard that conversation…_

But I had, and now the only solution to avoid a lot of pain for everybody was me, on my own, as I should have been years ago after the time I slapped Princess Poppy. As I’d thought then, it really was the best thing for everyone.

Still, not everything about my decision was bad. Like a good troll should, I tried to focus on the silver lining. I would have lots more time to focus on learning how to build things, for one. And just because I’d broken ties with Jaunty and Courtley didn’t mean I’d lost the other friends I’d made while I lived with them.

Laurel, for instance, had been helpful in finding a way to convince my foster dads to let me leave them. 

“I just can’t live with them anymore,” I had admitted painfully after telling her about the conversation I’d overheard.

“Why don’t you just talk to them?”

“It wouldn’t do any good. You know that.”

Her silence confirmed my assessment of the situation.

“So, what do you think I should do?”

“Could you say you want to live with someone else?”

“No,” I said instantly, and bit my lip. “I don’t want them to think I want somebody else more than them.”

“Then…how about just asking for a pod of your own?”

I tilted my head, intrigued by a solution I hadn’t even thought of despite weeks of soul-searching and a return to brooding, sleepless nights. “What, really? You think they’d let me?”

“Why not?” she replied with her typical cheeriness. “Your birthday is coming up. You could ask for a pod of your own, couldn’t you?”

And so I got my own pod. Even though they really didn’t want me to go, Jaunty and Courtley arranged for Laurel’s family to make me one, and I even got to help build it. I’d worried that King Peppy would object, but he had been pleased at the progress I’d made and saw no reason to deny my request, especially after I told him and my foster dads that having my own pod ‘might be just the thing I need to make me truly happy’.

It was a new, exciting chapter in my life’s scrapbook, as with more time to devote to my engineering studies, I discovered that I seriously loved the entire process of creating things. When I was occupied with planning, organizing, calculating, and learning to wield tools with the correct amounts of strength and precision to create useful things out of raw materials, hours, days, even weeks could go by with nary a twinge of anxiety. 

After living in my new home for a few weeks, I had gotten the idea to modify my pod to make it capable of storing the maximum amount of clothes, food, seeds, farming tools and other important supplies that it could hold, things we could pack up in a hurry when the bergens found us and we had to escape them again. This time, we wouldn’t have to worry about being cold or going hungry like we had when we’d first established our current village.

I didn’t tell anyone what I was doing. It was easier than having to listen to people telling me to forget about the bergens.

As I worked, I truly felt like I was finally taking positive action to address those issues that other trolls ignored. The feelings of relief and contentment I experienced even brought back memories of happier times with Grandma that I’d thought long since buried within me.

I also appreciated the peace and quiet, even though there were times when I got really lonely. Without realizing it, I had gotten used to the constant, caring presence of my foster dads. Sometimes I missed them so much that I even became willing to accompany Laurel to social events – events that she had always made a point of inviting me to – academic lectures, art unveilings, games, picnics, even parties.

It came as something of a surprise that with all the new things going on in my life, I actually had interesting things to talk to people about, and that they actually seemed to enjoy listening to me.

The other trolls began to respond to the change in me, too. Soon I even began to receive invitations from trolls other than Laurel (and Poppy, of course), and while I wouldn’t say I was rampantly happy, I was more satisfied with the direction my life was going than I ever had been. I’d never slept so well, or had such a sense of well-being. It gave me confidence.

Too much confidence.

The next major change in my life happened after I’d been living on my own for about three months. I’d finished modifying my pod, adding as many storage areas as possible, and leaving just a tiny living area along one wall. I’d been steadily filling my pod up with supplies of all kinds. Food, of course; containers filled with vegetables, nuts, mushrooms, dried fruit, and also sticks, tools, clothing, blankets, soap, books and more. Everything I thought we might ever need.

Finally, _finally,_ I had the sense that I was in control of my life.

I don’t remember the incident at all, but from what they told me, one day some trolls saw me standing on the branch adjacent to the one my pod hung from, using my hair to toss acorns into my pod. Then I swung inside my pod, and the door closed. There was a sharp _crack_ as the branch broke.

And my pod fell.

It crashed into the ground and pretty much exploded, a massive jumbled heap bursting out over the grass like the guts of a smashed melon. And they knew I was in there somewhere.

Some trolls panicked - screaming, running, fainting - while others rushed forward and began digging through the rubble, cutting hands and tearing hair, searching for me. Tiny seven-year-old Smidge, being low to the ground, finally spotted my black hair buried under a broken section of shelving that had caught on the next shelf over, leaving a small pocket of space underneath that probably saved my life. I was buried under everything that had been on the shelves, and although everyone warned her to stay back, she – strong even then – volunteered to crawl in and drag me out.

I was badly injured, bleeding and unconscious. A lot of trolls thought I was dead.

The next thing I knew, I was waking up in a dimly-lit room, barely able to see, and I _hurt_ all over. I heard a noise, and suddenly I realized that there was something tight around my head, my body and limbs, squeezing me. A bergen’s giant clawed hand?

I let out a shriek, lashing out with my hair, feeling it strike several moving things and grinning fiercely at the yelps of pain. I roared in triumph and agony, my body a mass of claw slashes and shattered, throbbing heat. _Maybe the other trolls have let themselves be eaten, but I won’t give up without a fight!_

__Suddenly a mass of something powerful gripped me, trapping me. That’s when I went completely berserk. I flogged the things around me as hard as I could, screaming in defiance, over and over as my ribs shot fire through me with every breath. Kicking and thrashing, I strained against my bonds, feeling them begin to separate.

Suddenly someone nearby started singing a soothing lullaby. I faltered, letting my roar die as I listened in confusion. _Bergens don’t sing..._

As other voices joined the first, I slowly became aware of the other trolls in the room. I was in the doctor’s pod. The constriction I’d felt was bandages over what felt like every inch of my body, and also several trolls had wrapped me in their hair to keep me from hurting myself more, bravely bearing the stinging lash of my hair. 

I’d been attacking my own people, the trolls who’d saved my life! I was mortified. I’d hurt them and terrified them and everyone else in the village within earshot with my feral, out-of-control behavior. I squeezed my eyes shut, unable to bear the sight of their shocked, concerned faces.

-O-

I found out later that I’d been unconscious for almost two days. _Thank goodness little Poppy wasn’t there when I woke up,_ I thought as I moved my boingo fruit carefully to the side so I wouldn’t be a hazard to the others while I berated myself for my past folly. _I was like a wild animal. I’m so glad she’s never seen me like that._

__-O-

I stayed in the doctor’s pod for over a month. I was pretty badly injured. An arm and a leg broken. Several ribs cracked. Numerous bruises, cuts and scrapes. A mild concussion. Doc Whipple said I was lucky not to have fractured my skull. She thinks I used my hair when I felt myself falling to protect myself, maybe by creating a globe of hair around me to cushion the shock when I hit the ground and then something fell on me and knocked me out. 

_I’ll never know for sure. I don’t remember the incident at all. Doc Whipple said that’s not uncommon with head injuries, to lose short-term memory from right before it happened._

__I recovered from the physical injuries just fine, being young and strong and fit, but there were some long-term repercussions that I wasn’t expecting. After I’d been at the Doc’s for a few weeks, King Peppy visited me. Gently, he told me that he and the older trolls had decided that I wasn’t ready yet to live on my own.

“That’s not fair! I know I went a little overboard, but I just need to make some new calculations, that’s all. I made sure to figure out how much weight a pod can handle; I just didn’t think about the branch. It’s not a big deal!”

“Er, when you woke up…” He looked uncomfortable. Trolls have a hard time when it comes to anything unpleasant or negative. Except for me, of course. I was used to it.

Still, I winced at the reminder. “I’m sorry about that. I apologized to everybody I hit. I didn’t mean to; I thought they were bergens. And they all forgave me and said they were sorry for scaring me. So everything is okay now.”

Strangely, King Peppy didn’t smile. “Branch, _you_ scared a lot of trolls, very badly. Everyone was so upset. Some even thought we were being attacked by, er-”

Suddenly I grinned. “By bergens? Well, it’s about time. Maybe they’ll take me seriously from now on.”

The King’s usually jovial face looked shocked, and then took on an expression I’d never seen before. Utter despair. “That…is a terrible thing to say, Branch.”

At the sight of his disappointment in me, my ears wilted.

“I don’t understand. I don’t know where we’ve gone wrong… We trolls need to rely on each other,” he murmured softly, not really looking at me. His eyes grew distant. “Rosiepuff, what would you say to him?” he whispered.

I pictured her face wearing the same look of weary sadness King Peppy wore now, and all the fight went out of me. Tears filled my eyes. “King Peppy, I’m sorry. I’ll live wherever you think best. Am I going back to live with Jaunty and Courtley?”

Part of me was glad. But would they even want me, after everything I’d done? 

King Peppy beamed at me as if the last few minutes hadn’t happened. “Wonderful, Branch, my lad! No, I’ve been thinking: instead of foster parents, what about sharing a pod with someone closer to your own age? Do you know Leafe?”

“Leafe? I think so. He’s about sixteen, isn’t he?”

“That’s the one. What would you say to becoming his roommate?”

I thought about it. “I guess I wouldn’t mind.”

“Splendid!”

It turned out to be a good choice. Leafe and I got along okay. He was more intellectual than most trolls, with a lively curiosity about the world and he was full of facts and figures that made him interesting to talk to, which I’m sure the King Peppy knew when he asked Leafe to be my roommate. I didn’t try to fill up his pod with extra food or supplies, assuming that this was my last chance. After the uproar I’d caused, I told myself it was only because I’d been so badly hurt that I hadn’t been banished from the village then and there. This was my last chance. I was sure of it.

I lived a fairly quiet life with Leafe for the next three years. Leafe Sage was yellow, and had glasses, warm teal-blue eyes, blue hair, and a light plum-purple nose. Unlike most of the other trolls I’d lived with, while he was kind, Leafe wasn’t overly expressive, being steady and logical by nature. He taught me some cool math tricks and some of his favorite recipes when we cooked meals together, and asked me how things were going once in a while, but otherwise we basically just lived our own lives.

Neither of us was home much, anyway. Leafe was studying to become a teacher, and then about six months later, he began dating an intelligent, pretty troll called Cherry Blossom. 

I liked Cherry Blossom. She was a little more soft-spoken than most trolls, which I appreciated, and seemed to understand the need to give me my space. She was a few years older than Leafe and had met him when he had chosen to be a teacher, and had apprenticed himself to Cherry Blossom’s former mentor, who had introduced them to each other. The two of them had a lot in common and it hadn’t taken long for them to fall in love.

Part of me was happy for them, but watching them together made me terribly lonely sometimes. They reminded me of Jaunty and Courtley’s easy, loving familiarity with each other, and with me. I missed it badly, especially at first, and spent a lot of miserable nights stifling my tears in my pillow.

I didn’t say a word to Leafe. I was sick of feeling guilty for ruining the lives of the trolls who opened their homes to me, and had resolved to live as quiet a life as possible from then on.

I never went back to live with Jaunty and Courtley. They visited me when I was recovering at the doctor’s pod, and I had an awful time convincing them that I wouldn’t be returning to their pod when I was healed. Much as I wanted to, I had too many reasons not to. I avoided them from then on.

Laurel’s parents were horrified that I’d gotten so badly hurt, in part because of their influence in getting me interested in engineering. As usual, I couldn’t bear the weight of guilt when I was around them and so I avoided them, too.

In fact, aside from school I stopped socializing, for the most part. Occasionally I would accompany Leafe to some event that interested me, and a few trolls who knew me would still chat cheerfully enough with me if I met them in the village, but I couldn’t help but assume that most of my fellow trolls probably thought I really was crazy.

I began to withdraw back into myself, aimlessly wandering the forest for hours at a time, unconsciously looking for somewhere that I could recreate the same feeling of peace and safety I’d enjoyed in my own pod.

**Author’s Note:**

In this author’s note I would like to address a couple of questions asked in my reviews on Fanfiction.net, because they make some good points and I can’t reply to them in the end notes because of the limited number of text characters allowed. One of my replies is quite long, so feel free to skip ahead to the next chapter if you’d like :)

First, a Guest asked if I will have a lemon scene, where our favorite couple will make love to each other.

Answer: Probably. It would seem weird if they didn’t, wouldn’t it? With them both being adults in love, and troll society being so touchy-feely in general, and not having to worry about trollings since in my version of Trolls, they only have two fairly short periods of time, twice a year, when they can create a trolling, and that’s not going to be anywhere near when my story takes place. I will try to make it as sweet and loving and fun as I can.

The other comment, by Sonicxamy, asks about why I have Branch taking on roles and attitudes that in our culture are usually thought of as feminine traits, and whether the idea of casual nakedness makes sense in the troll society. The short version of my answer comes first. The longer version, written after I thought about it for a while, is below the quote from Sonicxamy.

*Short Answer: One of the things I truly admire about DreamWorks is how they are subtly endorsing a more inclusive, non-judgmental attitude regarding a lot of stereotypical behavior and ideas, unlike some competing companies... For example, there are quite a few comments/jokes in both Frozen and Wreck-It Ralph (both are still favorites of mine, though) about ‘unmanly’ traits in the male characters that I really wish had not been said. Kids pick up on that kind of subtle disapproval and incorporate it into their view of the world.

But in Trolls they seem to make a point to go against cultural stereotypes in a way that I really like, that makes you realize just how ingrained they are in most of us, such as ‘pink is for girls and blue and green are for boys'. (I know Poppy is pink, but honestly I cannot imagine a character as energetic and almost irritatingly optimistic as she is as any other color.) And yes, Branch has stereotypical ‘boy’ colors and interests – he likes science and building things and is very athletic -but Poppy is also superbly athletic, AND is the leader of the village.

There are a lot of examples of deliberately going against the norm that I absolutely adore. I like how in TBGO how they have a recurring male glitter troll character who is pale ice pink with pale lavender hair, yet he has a perfectly masculine voice. Both village doctors and the highly-regarded Nova Swift are female. Whenever any of the male characters say or do something sentimental, it’s seen as natural by all the other trolls. In the Ask Poppy short on Youtube, Branch is willing to dance with Guy Diamond and doesn’t seem to think there’s anything strange about dancing with another guy.

I especially like how none of the trolls or bergen characters are what we would call conventionally beautiful, but they see themselves and each other as attractive, which makes me want to try harder to see people for who they are, not what they look like.

In Trolls 2 World tour, Guy Diamond, who (we assume) is male, has a baby (an egg pops out of his hair and hatches). So here’s another example of Dreamworks going against the (human) social and biological norms. 

Makes me wonder, though – is it just glitter troll males who have baby trolls, or do all males give birth? If so, our very idea of ‘male’ and ‘female’ has blurred quite a bit. So does that mean females take on the role of males in the human world when it comes to making babies – giving seed? How? With their hair, maybe? Sooo many questions… 

*Long Answer: I had a comment from Sonicxamy that makes some good points about trolls, tolerance and troll culture in general in regard to clothing, or lack thereof:

Sonicxamy’s Thoughtful Quote:

_“As much as i love the tolerance in it, there are things that just doesn't makes sense to me. First of all, if being naked around other trolls is completely normal, why wear clothes and underwear in the first place? And secondly, if males wear skirts and dresses is normal, why won't they do it? If that is the case then the trolls shouldn't know much about masculinity and femininity when it comes to clothes. Tolerance is good but too much tolerance doesn't make sense sometimes. All and all this is my favorite fanfic! I just like to think that our beloved trolls do have some social limits.”_

You make some excellent arguments. I was honestly wondering if someone would mention them, because the points you make are the exact same ones I debated on for quite a long time before taking my fic in the direction I did. I’m super happy that someone was thinking deeply enough about my fic to wonder about these things! :) I will happily tell you my reasoning, then.

The whole ‘naked-is-normal’ idea came from the original concept for the trolls, where they were _all_ actually supposed to be naked, according to the extras on the discs. They eventually went with just having the glitter trolls be naked, but I thought the idea was pretty interesting, and the canon Trolls Holiday ‘Tearaway Pants Day’ offers some support for the idea that nakedness is not seen as a big deal.

Also, in the real world there are nude beaches and nudist colonies. In addition, I have read and been influenced by a really intelligent science fiction/fantasy series called the Apprentice Adept series by Piers Anthony, set on another planet where the people are divided into clothed rulers and naked serfs, and on that world, nudity is everyday-normal and clothing is considered both a status symbol and sexy (under certain circumstances). The serfs (including the main character) do their everyday work, and have families, and compete in The Game, which is basically a vast collection of every type of challenge imaginable – mental and/or physical, and every year the winner becomes one of the ruling class. Nudity just doesn’t matter to them much, since nakedness is the norm on their planet.

In regard to the TBGO TV show, it sends mixed messages, to be honest. Poppy definitely gets embarrassed to see Gristle and later, Branch, in their underwear. I assume it’s because the creators have to conform to strict rules about promoting conservative attitudes regarding sexual behavior on children’s TV shows. But then, they also have Guy Diamond cheer Branch when he drops his pants, “You go, boy! Naked forever!” so I’m guessing the creators are not very condemning people in general, and so by extension, neither are their trolls.

Why do the trolls wear clothes at all? Many reasons. Fashion, of course. Protection from the elements, or rough/uncomfortable surfaces (ever sat on a metal bench or plastic seat in the hot sun? Ouch), or to keep from getting dirty, or to show social status. (Poppy’s crown and royal robe, for example).

I like your comment ‘if males wear skirts and dresses is normal, why won't they do it? trolls shouldn't know much about masculinity and femininity when it comes to clothes’. I think you mean why don’t the trolls in the movie or show ever cross-dress, and to take it a step further, why even have the concept of male and female clothing at all?

I have read articles that say we humans (and the characters we create, including trolls) use clothing to help young children tell boys from girls. This is a logical thing to do for a movie/TV series aimed at children, since most of us are going to be born physically either male or female and are going to grow up to feel attraction for a mate of the opposite sex (not gender, which is the very idea of being male or female inside your head). Having specific, traditional clothing styles for each sex helps make the choosing less confusing. (And I think it actually sets up the very _idea_ of ‘looking for a mate’.)

There may be hermaphrodite trolls, of course, or gay or trans or other genders (trolls like Smidge, who is referred to as ‘she’ on TBGO, make me wonder if she was born male and chose to be female, or if she just ended up with an unusually deep voice and other traits we define as masculine for no particular reason other than to make her amusing, and distinct from the other characters), but for the majority of trolls, sex-based traditional clothing makes sense, at least for the young trolls who are still learning ‘boy’ from ‘girl’.

Branch is an adult, so there’s no problem with mate-hunting-confusion here – he’s male, and is attracted to Poppy, who is female. You’ll notice I did put Poppy in a couple of boyish outfits, too – t-shirt and shorts, and in jeans and flannel. On the whole, I went mainly with dresses for Poppy not just to satisfy stereotypes but also because they tend to be more fancy and flamboyant, which suits her personality. (And dresses are just a lot prettier to imagine and describe than most boys’ clothes.)

Why, then, did I choose to have the trolls in my fic be open-minded about whether a male wears a dress? Partly because I support tolerance and acceptance myself, and partly because the trolls just seem like they’re not the type of closed-minded people who would make a fuss over a guy in a dress.

(Note that it’s not the same as saying that it’s ‘normal’ to see a male wearing a skirt or a dress. Most trolls will wear the clothing that’s traditional for their gender simply because it’s just the typical, everyday type of clothing that happens to be worn in the village.)

But Sonicxamy asked, if no one would condemn them for wearing clothes of the opposite gender, why don’t we see more males wearing skirts?

Probably because it just never occurs to them to do it. Each gender gets used to their traditional type of clothing and is comfortable with it. 

…Or maybe, what if they do, and we just don’t know it because they don’t make it a big deal on the show and so we never notice? Smidge, for example. She could very well be a cross-dresser, and everyone knows, but no one minds.

TBGO also shows some support for that here - In Cloudy With a Chance of Hugs, Branch wears a dress to indulge Cloud Guy and doesn’t seem particularly embarrassed about it (although I concede that could be because no one other than Cloud Guy saw him in it), and of course, in Model Behavior he wore a lot of clothes and makeup that could be considered feminine and seemed to revel in it. And in Mr. Glittercakes, the other trolls expected him to wear all sorts of clothes, including at least one dress, the same one he wore in Cloudy With a Chance of Hugs.

And while it doesn’t relate to clothes, I noticed in the TBGO YouTube short ‘How To Dance Trolls Style’, Branch is shown about to dance with Guy Diamond and it doesn’t seem to bother him at all that he’s going to be dancing with another guy.

To address what Sonicxamy said about social limits, oh, they definitely have them. But their social limits are different from ours. But I feel that although it’s not usual for males to wear a skirt - and they might comment on it or perhaps tease him gently about being cute - I doubt the average troll would seriously condemn Branch for it. 

See, the sense I get from the show is that what _is_ condemned and considered obscene are actions that show little regard for others’ feelings. In TBGO, when Satin is telling the other trolls that Chenille skips every third Hug Time and stamps her name instead of signing it on her thank-you cards, judging by their shocked gasps, I got the feeling she was letting slip what amounted to her sister’s Dirty Little Secrets, the same way a cross-dressing man might be publicly shamed in our society.

As you might have guessed, Branch gets a lot more condemnation for the way he goes against social norms like, say, stomping on a party invitation, or not wanting to socialize (during his gray years). To the other trolls, that’s a sign of someone who is mentally disturbed, who should be looked at with suspicion, and avoided. I plan to explore some of that as I tell more about Branch’s past. 

One of the reasons I decided to write this story is because the trolls’ social conventions are so delightfully different from ours. Of course, the main reason was the Broppy! :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Branch! He just can’t seem to catch a break. Every time life starts going good for him…kablooey! Still, he is learning from every mistake, and he won’t give up. He’s a fighter, our Branch.
> 
> I'll reveal more about this mysterious conversation that Branch overheard in a later chapter, never fear! ;)


	17. Tell Me True

Picturebook Romance

A Trolls fanfic

By Dreamsinger

Chapter Seventeen

Tell Me True

Poppy and I played on the boingo fruits for a while longer, but my near-accident had dampened my enjoyment. I hated looking like a fool in front of the other trolls, especially Poppy.

Eventually I ended up sitting alone on my boingo fruit at the edge of the meadow, trying not to get caught up in troubling memories from my past while I watched over the field of gleefully bobbing newly-helmeted trolls, systematically noting that each individual troll had their own preferred style of bouncing.

As I might have expected, Poppy soon noticed my absence, and then when she spotted me, my unhappy frown. She bounced to a stop next to me, her topknot fluttering cutely through the opening in the top of her pink helmet. “Cheer up, Branch. Listen, you achieved a goal today! Everyone will wear helmets after this, probably for more things than just boingo riding.”

“Yeah, I know, but no one’s laughing at _you.”_

 __“Oh, come on, no one is-"

Just then a pair of trolls hopped by on either side of us, hooting raucously. “Yeah, and remember the time he knocked over that cake?” one shouted.

“Which time?” the other troll called back, and both of them practically fell off their boingo fruits, they were laughing so hard. Other trolls joined in, and I ducked my head, blushing furiously and glaring at Poppy, who was biting her lip as she tried to suppress a snigger of her own.

“Go ahead. Laugh it up,” I said sourly. _Am I ever gonna live that down?_

 __“Sorry, Branch, but it _was_ funny,” she said through her chuckle, whose sheer adorableness began to pull my attention from my grumpy thoughts without my permission. “Even the time at the funeral. I practically died myself, trying not to laugh.”

I suddenly pictured a teenage Princess Poppy, cute and silly and giggly, going cross-eyed trying to keep a straight, respectful face as her father the King officiated the event, and before I knew it I was spluttering with the same kind of wacky crazy laughter we’d shared last night. 

I tried to stop, but then Poppy started making funny faces at me. I looked away, trying to get myself under control, but every time I looked back at her, she pulled another one, and I started chuckling despite myself. Then, I don’t know how she did it, but all of a sudden she stretched out her face – _mong!_ – and looked exactly like Cooper. Blue dreadlocks and everything. I completely lost it, giggling helplessly and clutching my stomach for support. 

I wasn’t the only one laughing. The entire field was cracking up with chortles, hoots and guffaws. Then random trolls started dropping off their boingos, too weak from laughing to hold on. Those who landed on their new helmets hardly seemed to notice, I noted with pride, rolling on the grass with their legs in the air.

“All right, all right!” I held up my hands, grinning broadly at Poppy. “I give up! You win, okay? Now stop doing that before somebody gets squashed.”

My perky girlfriend settled down and beamed at me, looking thoroughly pleased with herself. The sight of her joyful face was more than enough to remind me why I called her Sunshine.

The other trolls began to recover and remount their boingos fruits, and soon the field was full of hippity-hop happiness again. I reached up and wiped the tears of laughter from my eyes, heaving a big sigh of gladness and relief.

I wanted to hug my girl for cheering me up but settled for reaching across the space between our boingos to twine my hair affectionately with hers. “Thanks, Poppy. I don’t know what I’d do without you. You always know what to say to make me feel better.”

“Just returning the favor, Branch,” Poppy said, her voice soft and husky. I didn’t have to ask her what she meant. I was just glad that I had been able to be the positive troll Poppy had needed so much right then in that dark bergen pot to help her recover her confidence in herself.

But I didn’t want to think about that now. I was in a good mood. In fact, I was feeling a little frisky now. Quickly I glanced around, making sure no one was paying attention to us, then gave her a teasing half-grin.

“So, Poppy…wanna know what distracted me so much I forgot to follow my own safety protocols?” 

“What?”

I leaned slowly toward her and she matched me, her expression innocent, expectant. Then when she got as close as our boingo fruits would let her, I lifted a hand to hide what I was doing from the trolls in the field and used the other to blow her a kiss.

“You.”

Her jump of surprise was hard enough to lurch her boingo fruit and jolt her feet into the air. “Wh-whoa,” she blurted out as she went over backwards.

Grinning, I tightened my grip on her hair and tugged her upright. _Ha, just look at her blush!_ _That’s almost worth the public embarrassment._

My rosy queen swiped a hand playfully in my direction. “Oh, you,” she said, her tone full of affectionate tolerance. She rubbed a hand across her stomach, making a small sound of discomfort.

“Still bothering you?” I asked, tensing my own stomach muscles to test them. _Much better, thankfully, but not quite back to normal._

 __“Just a little,” she replied. “The exercise helped.”

“Yeah, me too. But between this workout and the battering I got from the boingos, I think I’m really gonna feel this in the morning.”

“Well, if you do, tell me. I’ll give you a massage,” she offered cheerfully.

“Thanks.” 

“Any time, Branch,” she said sweetly.

I glanced down to take hold of the boingo fruit rope and then froze. _Wait. A massage in the morning? Is she expecting us to share a bed again tonight?_

 __I felt the first hint of nervousness. Flirting in public was relatively safe, after all; it could only go so far. Also, I’d discovered that I enjoyed the challenge of pushing the boundaries to see just how much we could get away with before everyone caught on. _But what’s going to happen when we’re alone together again? Will she expect us to-_

 __“So, Branch…wanna play with me?” she said invitingly.

I gave her a startled look. “What, here? Poppy…” I couldn’t decide whether to be amused, intrigued or scandalized, glancing around quickly to see if anyone had noticed.

“What?” Her eyes widened. “No, no, I - I meant the boingos!” She laughed nervously while doing her own hasty survey of the surrounding trolls, none of whom, thankfully, seemed to have noticed anything.

“Oh.” Her delightfully reddened cheeks reassured me. _Thank goodness she doesn’t expect me to be_ that _blatant._ I wondered would happen when the other trolls finally knew about us. _Will she expect me to act all lovey-dovey in front of everyone? I don’t know if I can!_

 __I put it out of my mind for now, saying in a fake-casual tone, “Well, sure, I’m up for another round. Or do you want to race some more?”

“No, I’ve got another idea. Come on!”

She began bouncing away on her boingo fruit. I started to follow, then realized something. I’d forgotten to unweave my hair from hers. All this time, we’d been holding hair in front of everyone!

I pulled away from her, my cheeks burning as I reprimanded myself, _Why don’t you just put up posters announcing who the queen’s new boyfriend is?_

 __But then my girl was in front of me, re-threading her hair securely through mine. I gave her a questioning look. “What?”

She gave me a bright-eyed smile. “Pair-boingo-riding!”

“Is that safe?” I said automatically.

“We’ve got helmets now, right? Besides, if the twins can do it, so can we.”

“Well, I suppose… But what if someone guesses-”

 _“There_ it is, ladyYyYys-and-geEentletrolls!”

The mellifluous trill of a very well-known, dramatic voice had all heads turning in the direction of the stunning silvery form proudly mounted on a blue-green boingo fruit. Guy Diamond pointed at us, and I reflexively cringed away from the attention as he announced, “Observe! The _hippest_ new way to dance with a partner! Dancing _with_ your partner!”

He gestured grandly toward Smidge, who was seated next to him on a lavender-gray boingo fruit ten times her size as she meshed her long dark-teal hair with his shining white locks. “Try it today! It’s fantabuloOoOous!”

The two of them began bouncing in tandem, their joined hair rising and falling like ocean waves and somehow managing to make it all look cool. Maybe it was because they’d chosen boingos that matched each other’s colors. Soon other trolls began to join hair and resume playing.

“So what do you say now?” Poppy asked.

I shrugged and smiled. “Well, I guess we don’t stand out anymore. Let’s bounce!”

Poppy laughed and we were off, jiggling and jouncing in wobbly silly circles, trying to coordinate the irregularly-shaped, downright uncooperative giant fruit globes. Soon both of us were laughing again. 

The next thing I knew, we were surround by a colorful rainbow of rippling hair bridges and my inner mayhem alert went off.

_Uh oh!_

I groaned and slapped a hand to my forehead. “Poppy, what have you done?”

“Started a trend, apparently.”

I flung my hands up in the air. “But it’s going to end up a mess! One gigantic hairball!”

“Well, _I_ say it’s going to be a great new twist to an old game.” She reached out and put a hand on my cheek, turning me to face the crowd. “Just look at them, Branch.”

So I did, watching the bobbing sea of bright faces all around us; all beaming at me, inviting me to join in, as my fellow trolls had so often in the past.

But this time I accepted their invitation, with an eye-roll, a sigh, and an indulgent smile. “Oh, all right.”

It turned out that, as Poppy was fond of saying, we were both right. It was just as big a mess as I’d predicted, but what I hadn’t counted on was how much fun everyone was having. Judging from the uproarious laughter, many of the trolls seemed to take it for granted that getting all tangled up together was just part of the game.

Others, like Poppy and me, managed to stay free, dodging and twirling in a way I dubbed the Defensive Anti-Twist, and to my surprise, I enjoyed every minute of it.

Eventually when a line of trolls started to form, we gave our boingo fruits and helmets to a pair of waiting trolls and went to sit on a tall mushroom nearby. As I looked down at the good-natured web of confusion, I began seeing kaleidoscopic patterns. Greens and blues merged with yellows and reds. An arc of purple burst forth from within, interweaving with a stream of yellow, and a pink ribbon fluttered by, only to be caught in a loop of orange.

Naturally, I couldn’t help calling down advice to those trolls who were hopelessly entangled. I never even noticed when Poppy handed me a megaphone, but at some point I realized that the game had become a dance, with me as the caller, the objective being to create gorgeously intricate hair-patterns _without_ getting tangled.

I took a moment to grin at Poppy. “This is fun!”

“You see?” Poppy laughed. “I knew you’d love it. And you’re definitely in your element here. It’s like a cross between a square dance and a chess game, but all twisty. What should we call it? The Squist?”

“No. Call it the Helix. The Double-Helix!” I sang out, flying high on the wind of my own elation.

“Okay, everyone!” She raised her own voice in song. “If you wanna have a chance, all ya gotta do is listen to Branch…” The whole group got into it, singing and bouncing and swaying in unison, a veritable rainbow river of bright, flowing hair. __

__-O-

The Double-Helix was a hit. I didn’t know it then, but it would become a very popular party game, especially for couples. Poppy would often joke that I had invented the game to encourage our trolls to pair up and add to the population of the village. “DNA, get it?”

I would roll my eyes indulgently. “Yes, dear, I get it, I get it…”

-O-

Poppy swung from the mushroom across to a nearby tree branch, to give the aquamarine troll more room. She wrapped her arms around her legs, resting her chin on her knees so she could relax while she watched her brilliant boyfriend do what he did best. _It’s a good thing boingo fruits come in so many colors._

She smiled lovingly at him as he skipped nimbly back and forth across the mushroom, sweeping his arm and his hair through the air, a big, toothy grin on his face as he chanted,

_Swing your partner by the hair_

_Now lift them high up in the air_

_Now, Purple, duck down out of sight_

_And Orange, three hops to the right_

_Red, hop forward, one and two_ (he held two fingers in the air)

_And Blue, hop back, then leftward, too- also!_

__There was a burst of laughter from the trolls as Branch narrowly avoided a hair-snare because of ambiguous language.

Poppy laughed, too. _He’s so vibrant, so alive. How he’s changed from the way he used to be… Where did all that energy come from? Then again, maybe that’s why he’s always seemed so magnetic, so intense? Because all that energy was bottled up inside?_

 __“How come you’re not up there, Queen Poppy?” a little voice asked.

Poppy turned to see a light-orange male trolling, eight years old, with vivid orange hair, plum-colored eyes and a pine-green nose. “Oh, hello, Conifer. Are you having fun at the festival today?”

“Yes, Queen Poppy.” He smiled and sat down cross-legged next to her, taking a bite out of the candy apple he was holding. Conifer was in the class she currently taught in trolling school. He was a sweet boy who didn’t say much, but when he did, he often surprised her with his astute observations.

“What do you mean, ‘up there’?”

Methodically, he finished chewing and swallowed before answering. “You like to be the leader. Usually you’re the one in the middle, and everybody dances around you.” He went to take a second bite and then seemed to remember his manners. “Wanna share?” he offered, holding out the shiny candy apple by its stick so the unbitten side was facing her.

“Well, thank you, but no. I’m just about to go get some lunch. I’m just waiting for Branch to finish.”

“Okay.” He went back to peacefully gnawing on his apple, leaving her to mull over what he’d said.

“You’re right. I do like to be in the middle of things,” she said slowly, thinking out loud. “But he’s having so much fun… I guess I feel like today is Branch’s day to shine.”

Little Conifer nodded. “My big brother likes him.”

Poppy blinked. “He does? How does he know Branch? Wait. By ‘likes him’ do you mean he’s got a crush on Branch?”

“No, he has a crush on Celesta Starchime, only she doesn’t know it yet. He asked me not to tell her, on account of he’s nervous, so I didn’t. Oops…” He put a hand over his mouth. “You won’t tell her, will you, Queen Poppy?”

Poppy smiled. “Not if he doesn’t want me to. I know something about secret romances…”

She gazed back at Branch, admiring the way his colors shone rich and vivid in the sunlight. She especially adored the lovely aqua-blue of his ears; delicate and translucent and beautiful - and the way his embroidered silk vest blew open as he exuberantly leaped and twirled. She sighed happily and put a hand over her heart, enchanted as always by his vitality; the sheer, effervescent, uninhibited love of life he was finally able to let free after being hidden deep inside for so long. _I’ll never get tired of seeing this side of him._

 __She too felt different; more connected, more grounded somehow, but in a way that was comforting, not stifling. _It’s as if loving Branch is opening up parts of myself that I never knew existed._

 __“But maybe I’ll ask your brother about it, see if there’s anything I can do to help him.”

Conifer nodded placidly.

_I get the feeling that that’s why he came up here to talk to me._

__She waited a moment in case there was something else he wanted to mention, and then remembered her other mission. “So, your brother likes Branch, Conifer?”

“Yeah. He talks about him sometimes.”

“How does he know Branch?”

“He doesn’t. But I guess he used to, a long time ago. I think he misses him.”

“Oh, really?” Poppy’s ears twitched. Anything related to Branch’s mysterious past fascinated her. “Conifer, do you know where your brother is?”

-O-

Poppy hurried as fast as she could through the thickening crowd, the desperate jangle of _I’m late I’m late I’m late_ sending jolts of power through her legs. _Oh my gosh, I didn’t meant to be gone so long! I was just so fascinated by what I heard, I didn’t even notice the time passing until the noon Hug Time went off. I hope nobody was upset that I didn’t hug; I just ran off. And now I’ve missed_ another _hug from Branch, and made him wait for me_ again. _I hope he isn’t too mad at me_.

As she neared the twins’ tent, she heard a familiar voice call out, “Poppy!”

She jammed on the brakes so hard the trolls behind her couldn’t stop in time and down they all went, hair over heels. Squashed under someone’s bottom, the pink troll squinted to make out a pair of husky blue-green legs coming toward her.

“Poppy, are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she grunted as he began helping the trolls up off her. “Sorry, people. My bad.”

The automatic chorus of friendly forgiveness was unexpectedly soothing to her. Wonderful as he was, Branch just didn’t have the typical troll reaction to so many things. She had to always be aware of that and treat him a little differently, with a little more thought, and that took more energy than she was sometimes aware of.

Of course, he was worth it. _Definitely worth it._

When the last troll was headed on his way again, Poppy began to push herself up, only to feel two big hands close gently around her waist. To her surprise, instead of being set down on her feet, her strong boyfriend easily lifted her above him, tilting his head back so he could look her in the eye while balancing her weight perfectly on the palms of his oversized hands.

She could see herself reflected in his beautiful blue eyes as he smiled and said, “Hey.”

She let out a pent-up breath, disconcerted at his even tone, which gave her no clue as to what he was feeling. “Hi…”

“You okay?” His eyebrows lifted questioningly. He didn’t seem angry.

Poppy began to relax, letting her arms and legs dangle, trusting in his steady support. His stance was utterly stable yet limber, as a good dance partner’s should be. “Yeah.”

He brought her just low enough to nudge her nose with his. “Missed you.”

She smiled lovingly and reached down to caress the sides of his face. “Sorry. It took longer than I thought.”

“That’s okay.” He set her down gently in the grass.

Poppy waited. “Aren’t you going to ask where I was?”

“Oh, well, I saw you talking to one of the trollings in your class, um...”

“Conifer, right. He, uh, he wanted to ask me for help for his brother, who has a crush on another troll and needed some advice. I hope I didn’t keep you waiting long,” she explained awkwardly.

“No problem. I totally get where he’s coming from.” Branch smiled blandly at her.

A cowbell rang in the back of her mind. “Well, that’s surprisingly understanding of you,” she said before she thought.

His eyes scrunched in puzzlement. “What do you mean? I’m a very understanding guy.”

She stared at him, confused. _Was that his sarcasm again?_ “I mean… You’re handling this unexpectedly well, considering this is the second time I’ve disappeared on you today, and this time I didn’t even let you know I was going.” She put her arms behind her back and swung a foot through the grass. “We’re supposed to be enjoying our ice cream together. You’re not mad at all?” __

 __“Well, I – uh, no, of course not. Besides, I was having fun at the time.”

She stared at him. _Just when I thought I had you figured out…_ “But I missed Hug Time again!” She stomped a foot, letting her own frustration show, and the corner of his mouth quirked. 

“Oh, so _that’s_ it.” He crossed his arms, then used a hand to gesture toward her. “Okay, if it bothers you that much, you can make it up to me later.”

She perked up. _Ooo! Is he saying we can have an unscheduled Hug Time tonight?_

 __“Great!” The last of her tension left her as she continued with her usual cheer, “Then how about we go get some lunch?”

“Sounds good.”

Surrounded by all manner of food vendors, it didn’t take long to gather a collection of yummy treats, and healthier fare, too. Branch nodded approvingly when Poppy picked a cute little treat basket full of crunchy sliced vegetables, and he reached for a juicy fruit salad just the right size for two.

By mutual consent they found a nice shady glade under a large tree, with enough bushes surrounding them to give them some sense of privacy. Sitting on the edge of the picnic cloth she had thought to pick up while in the market square, Poppy enjoyed their food beside her boyfriend in contented silence.

For a while, at least. Poppy thought Branch was content as well, but then she happened to glance up at him when he didn’t see her and the troubled frown on his face instantly took the wind out of her happiness sails.

 _I knew it. He_ is _upset. Or is he just thinking hard about something?_

 __Again, she reminded herself that Branch’s reactions weren’t always like a typical troll’s. _He said he didn’t mind. But how much of what he said was true, and how much was just what he thought I would want to hear, so as to keep the harmony between us? Dad and I sometimes have this problem with the other trolls, but Branch is usually a lot more…_

_When did this happen? Branch used to be willing to speak up, like when he lost his cool during that catbus trip, and when he did, he made me realize that he probably spoke for the others, too. Even if it’s negative, if that’s really how he feels, I need to hear it._

__“Branch, are you _sure_ you’re not upset?” __

 __The aquamarine troll finished chewing his mouthful before he answered calmly, “Poppy, it’s okay. I figured this kind of thing is going to happen. You’re the queen, after all.”

His look of kindly resignation, as if he thought he could expect no better treatment from her, made her stomach sink. _Oh, no. This is the kind of thing I was worried about when I asked him this morning not to tell anyone about us._

 __Suddenly she wasn’t hungry any more. “You know, even when my dad was the king, he still made time for me every day.” She felt the corners of her mouth pull down. “This is wrong. This is not the way I want things to be between us.”

He looked alarmed. “Poppy, hey-” 

Her voice wobbled. “And I really need you to tell me when something’s bothering you.”

“Poppy-”

“It’s really important to me, Branch!” she cried.

He blew out a gust of air through his teeth and ran a hand through his hair. “Okay, then. I admit it. I _am_ upset that you ran off on me again. Was it _really_ so important that it couldn’t wait until later?”

She sighed in relief. “Thank you for being honest.” Then her smiled faded and she looked down, her eyes darkening to maroon as they moved over the grass, reflecting deep thoughts. “Branch,” she said abruptly. “The thing is, _I_ haven’t been completely honest with _you._ You see, the reason I went off wasn’t just to help some other troll, it was for you.”

“For me?”

“Yes. You know that I’ve been planning a surprise for you, but I realize now that a surprise is no good if keeping it makes you feel bad, so I’ll just tell you. Later-”

“Wait! Don’t tell me.”

“But I-”

“Poppy.” He covered her mouth with his hand and her eyebrows went up. “Thank you, but you don’t have to tell me what it is.” His expression softened and his thumb stroked her cheek, distracting her. “You don’t have to spoil your surprise.”

He lifted his hand and she leaned toward him, questing for his touch before she caught herself. Then the meaning of his words sunk in. “Wait. You mean _your_ surprise.”

He let out a light laugh through his nose, his eyes twinkling with affection. “Sure.”

With things all right between them again, her appetite came back with a rush.

Branch wasn’t as hungry. He’d had those caramel chocolates earlier – and never again would she think of chocolate or caramel without being reminded of him – so he finished eating before she did, relaxing back onto the sun-dappled grass with a sigh of pleasure.

Soon he yawned.

“Why don’t you take a little nap, Branch? You lost some sleep last night, as I recall,” Poppy offered, smiling as she remembered the adorable scrapbook page with the trollings on it that waited for them back at her pod. “I’ll wake you when I’m done eating.”

“No, that’s okay, I’m fine. You’re almost done.” He lay there quietly for a while, then said, “That goes for you too, Poppy. You know you’re more likely than I am to pretend everything’s fine and dandy when it’s not.”

“I don’t pretend, Branch,” she protested. “Everything usually _is_ fine and dandy.”

Normally at this point he’d argue back, but even Branch wasn’t immune to the mellowness of a warm day, quiet surroundings, and a full belly. His tone was only mildly reproving. “Poppy…”

She sighed and rolled her eyes indulgently. “Okay, fine. I promise.”

Poppy finished eating a few minutes later and looked up to see a rare and beautiful sight. The former fearmonger was sleeping peacefully on his back in the soft grass, his breathing deep and gentle and utterly tranquil. His arms were up beside his head, his palms trustfully open to the sky.

 _Aw, look at him._ She clasped her hands under her chin. _He’s sleeping like a little baby. How cute!_

 __A year ago, she would never have expected to see him sleep like that. Or to let anyone see him sleeping at all. _He looks so serene right now, so innocent. Oh, Branch, how I wish I could give that innocence back to you. While I really appreciate it, it’s not your job to worry about the village. It never was._

_You know, he looks a lot younger when he’s asleep. I tend to think of him as much older, but he’s really not that much older than me. Not even four years older. And when he’s relaxed, like now, you can really see how young and handsome he is._

__She got on her hands and knees and moved closer, looking for the familiar marks on his face that she called ‘care lines’ rather than ‘age lines’; lines made because he cared, or worried. Many of them had gradually gone away over the past six months since he’d finally learned how to be happy. She could see only the faintest of creases at the corners of his eyes, the same creases most male trolls naturally developed at some point.

The worry-lines he often had between his eyes were gone, leaving only strong, level, dark-purple eyebrows, so dark they were almost black; a striking contrast to his light-colored skin. It brought to mind the wonderful dream she had awoken from yesterday, the dream that had finally made her realize how much he had come to mean to her and how gorgeous he really was.

Poppy leaned closer, eager to have this chance to admire his beauty.

He really was a fascinating color, a lovely pale aquamarine shading to a delicate lavender on his cheeks, ears, and toes, with a gentle, translucent radiance that she had never noticed with anyone else. Most trolls had colors that were bold and somewhat matte in appearance, but not Branch. No, her boyfriend’s colors were special; almost as changeable as his moods. Indoors and on cloudy days he appeared to be a soft, pale blue, or even blue-gray, but when he was in full daylight, like now, it brought out a certain warmth; a light teal-green undertone that was especially apparent when the light shone through his elegantly pointed ears.

His hair was special, too. Depending on the light, his natural hair color ranged from a deep, dark purple to a much brighter shade; generally a magnificent cool-purple, although under reddish light it could look almost plum-colored.

His nose – the one part of him besides his alluring sky-blue eyes that had always had color, even when he was gray – was an attractive medium-lavender that complemented his colors well. As noses went, his was impressive. It was a fine nose, strong and proud, yet soft enough to invite frequent nose-boops.

In contrast, the glitter-freckles on his cheeks were small and delicate, with a subtle, sophisticated sparkle instead of the rather metallic glint seen on some trolls. Then she noticed a tiny dark freckle on his cheek, and then a few more, and then… _Ooo! There’s some on his ear..._

She wondered if his dark freckles felt any different than the rest of his skin. The young queen reached out a curious finger, stroking lightly along his cheek. As far as she could tell, his skin was as smooth there as anywhere.

She liked the way his skin felt under her fingers, downy-soft and warm, inviting her to explore. _Maybe the freckles on his ears are different?_ She grinned to herself as she sat down next to him, happily following the trail of freckles, mapping every one with her scrapbooker’s eye for detail. __

 __She was touching him again. She couldn’t help it.There was just something about Branch, some sad, wistful quality about him that drew her to him. It always had, from the first day they’d played Bergen Attack together. It had only grown stronger over time, like on the day he’d moved into his bunker, all upset, when he’d hugged her and cried and her heart had come as close as it ever had to breaking. How could she _not_ reach out to him?

She laid her hand tenderly on his cheek. He turned his head slightly toward her and she expected to see his eyes open, but instead he seemed to settle himself against her with a light sigh of contentment. She felt his lips move against her palm as he smiled a little in his sleep, and her heart melted.

_Aw, what a sweetie! Now I really want to kiss him…but I won’t. The last thing I want to do is freak him out, or break my promise to wait until our first official date. He’s trying his best, flirting with me and everything. And I never would have expected him to do that thing with the caramel…_

__Her thoughts began to gush the way her mouth sometimes did. _You know that was seriously good I never would have thought of that, I kinda wonder now what he has in mind for our first date and if it’ll be even better? But in the meantime I’ve gotta be patient with him._

_Maybe…maybe I should let him come to me. Maybe I should act a little bit shy and see if it makes him bolder? But he didn’t do the caramel thing until I pushed him a little…_

__The pink troll put both hands over her face, moaning softly. _Now I understand why romantic relationships are supposed to be so complicated. Until yesterday he was my best friend, and we were so close and there was none of this weird awkwardness between us. I really need some advice. I wanna talk to my dad. Or Bridget or Biggie or someone, but the more people I talk to about this, the more it’s gonna spread until the whole village knows._

 __She smiled wryly. _I’m surprised they don’t know already. Cherry Blossom said she wanted to tell Leafe, but I guess the two of them must have been able to keep quiet about us after all. Oh, Cherry Blossom! She already knows. I can ask_ her _for advice! If I can figure out a way to talk to her without Branch overhearing._ She bit her lip. _But I don’t want to disappear on him again._

 __She gazed down at her best-friend-turned-boyfriend. The sight of his adorable sleeping form lifted her spirits immensely, and she felt her normal optimism coming back. _Okay, so I have a goal, now I just have to wait for an opportunity to make it happen. And in the meantime, I get to spend the day with someone I love. So, win-win._

 __As she gazed down at him, she was well aware of the silly lovesick grin on her face. _Such a cutie. You have no idea how happy it makes me to see you like this, Branch._

 __She heard the soft _shuff_ of feet through grass and looked up and grinned to see what looked like a walking paintbrush moving past the bushes at the edge of the glade. As usual, the resident paint-splattered artist, Harper, was more colorful than her artwork.

Suddenly an idea _pinged_ in the pink troll’s brain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When the trolls are laughing at him, this is in reference to the scene at the beginning of the first Trolls movie, where Branch has several panic attacks at different events and flips the table holding a cake every time.
> 
> Poppy’s song advising the trolls to listen to Branch is my response to a scene in the TV series where Poppy sings a song (which is NOT canon as far as my fic is concerned) telling the trolls to not listen to Branch and basically discrediting Branch’s character. Later we find out she has a good reason for this and Branch seems okay with it, but she never does take back what she said once the truth behind her song comes out, so most of the trolls would probably still think of him as unreliable, at least at that point in the series.
> 
> Conifer’s character is based on a blind bag toy figure I have that is probably meant to be the orange trolling in Poppy’s class in the movie, but the figure’s colors are slightly different. Since I’m using some of the figures as character models I describe them using the actual colors of the figure, which only has black dots for eyes, so I get to choose my own eye color, which may be different from the character in the movie.
> 
> I loved writing the metaphor for their future life together, when Branch lifts her up and supports her so tenderly after she falls. He truly is her partner in the dance of life.
> 
> Speaking of writing, I choose my adjectives very carefully to take advantage of those that have more than one meaning, like Poppy calling Branch ‘vibrant’ meaning both ‘energetic’ and ‘bright’ – in both his attitude _and_ his colors. So if you aren’t sure about which way I meant it, most likely, I meant both.
> 
> Look forward to the future: I have several sources of conflict running in the background of my story that will eventually be addressed. For example: Branch's fear of intimacy. He's a healthy young troll and is just as attracted to Poppy as she is to him, but every time they get close he has to fight his automatic rejection /retreat reaction. Plus he worries he's a bad choice for Poppy. He's carefully skirting around the edges of the idea that he might be King someday, trying to look at it practically, as a set of procedures and problems to solve, rather than as having an entire village looking to him for leadership and emotional connection(!) Which scares the heck out of him.
> 
> Another thing is that Branch really craves respect and recognition from the other trolls, and now that he's the boyfriend of the Queen, even if most trolls don’t know it yet, it puts even more pressure on him.
> 
> Poppy, in turn, is losing confidence in her own decisions, since spending time with Branch has shown that there's a lot of things (to help the village) that she's never thought of, but Branch has. We see a bit of this in the sixth season episode where she does everything she can to avoid making a decision and ends up doing just that, and nobody is happy with her. Which is her worst nightmare.


	18. A New Kind of Family

The loving touch of a hand on my hair lifted the recent undercurrent of memories to the surface of my sleeping mind, memories of comfort and fear, contentment and anguish; of milestones reached and challenges met. I dreamed of big hands ruffling my hair, playful and affectionate, but I pushed them away, rejecting the hands and the love they offered. I dreamed of mistakes made and forgiveness given, of trust earned and then lost. I dreamed of a heart-rending scene in a doctor’s pod, and a final loss of hope.

-O-

When I was almost ten years old, I got my last chance to find a real family, and I succeeded. 

Unfortunately.

-O-

After the uproar I’d caused when I slapped Princess Poppy, King Peppy had chosen a new set of foster parents for me. Jaunty and Courtley Nimble, two of the most well-respected males in the village.

They were both superb athletes, big and strong and quick-moving. Each of them coached half a dozen teams, and they had a tendency to use a lot of sports metaphors. I was small and skinny for my age, but they really seemed to enjoy playing sports with me anyway. I couldn’t help being flattered by that. 

Jaunty was a vivid magenta glitter-troll with aqua-blue eyes, nose and hair. He was bright and cheerful and easygoing, always full of energy. He loved to tell corny jokes, often accompanied by enthusiastic poofs of glitter.

Courtley was all shades of purple; light purple skin, a mid-purple nose and a handsome sheaf of dark purple hair, with blue eyes like mine. Courtley was more serious – not as extreme as me, of course – and contemplative. He liked to think aloud and ask my opinions about things, speaking with a melodious lilt that made even inconsequential things sound interesting.

Life with Jaunty and Courtley was different from anywhere I’d ever lived. For one thing, they were older than most of the couples I’d lived with: Jaunty was 35 and Courtley, 38. They seemed wiser than other trolls, too; more experienced, with a calm, steady self-assurance that made me feel safer and more settled than I could ever remember being with any other family. I really looked up to them.

One of the things I found I appreciated about my newest foster dads was how they let me make my own choices, instead of trying to convince me that whatever I wanted was wrong or unnecessary. For example, as kind and accommodating as my previous foster families had been, none of them had ever gone along with my request for a space that was entirely my own, choosing instead to keep me in a hair-alcove near them as if I was still a baby. 

But when I asked for a room of my own, my newest foster dads had called in some friends of theirs, a family of builders called the Whizbangs. I got to watch them expand our pod and modify its insides to create a small room for me on one side, which was pretty cool. I liked seeing them bring in stacks of supplies and turn them into something real.

They had a daughter named Laurel who was four years older than me. I found her really easy to talk to. She told me about engineering and architecture and design and managed to make it sound really fun, and useful, too, unlike a lot of other troll hobbies.

“Looks like you made a new friend,” Courtley commented later.

Jaunty turned around and showered me in confetti-glitter. “Yay! Congratulations!”

“A friend?” Embarrassed, I waved a hand in the air. “Nah, she was just telling me about building stuff, that’s all.”

-O-

I really admired my new foster parents, even though it took a while for us to get used to each other. We often had misunderstandings, to which I would usually overreact, but rather than get upset themselves, somehow they really seemed to understand me. I didn’t even notice how quickly I had begun to settle in, to think of the two of them as people who would always be there to help me with whatever I needed.

Then, a few weeks after I first came to live with them, there was, as Jaunty would put it, a real game-changer.

A desperate shout cracked the night.

“No! Stop!”

I woke with a jolt, reflexively tossing my blanket aside. It snagged my feet and I fell off my bed onto the rug, banging my elbow hard. Panicking, I scrambled up and dashed to my foster dads’ bedroom.

As I burst into the room I saw them sitting on their bed, where Jaunty was offering a tissue to Courtley, his face full of concern. Both of them had rumpled bed-heads and Courtley wore pajamas.

And he’d been crying.

An icy chill went through me, nailing my feet to the floor.

“Branch.” For the first time, Jaunty had lost his trademark easygoing attitude.

Then he must have noticed my scared expression, hiding his worry behind a not-very-convincing mask of casualness. “Oh, uh, hey, little dude. Sorry to wake you.”

Courtley reached up to wipe the wetness on his cheeks, but didn’t speak. I sensed that things were worse than they were trying to pretend and sudden terror made my stomach dive.

“What’s going on? Are they here?” I whispered. “They are, aren’t they?”

They stared at me, eyes wide. My instincts kicked in and I rushed to the window and looked out, listening hard, twisting my ears in every direction.

“Branch,” Jaunty said softly. “It’s all right. He just had a bad dream.”

I ignored him, searching for the real reason for Courtley’s distress.

Only the usual nightly critter chorus filled my ears. Finally, shivering from cold and nerves and rubbing my sore elbow, I turned around to see the two of them giving me such compassionate looks that it embarrassed me.

“Courtley really did just have a bad dream. Sorry for scaring you, little buddy. Um, would you like to come over here and help me comfort him?”

I glanced at the wistful look on Courtley’s tearstained face as he opened his arms for a hug, and backed away.All this time, I’d thought of them as strong and capable, trolls I could finally depend on, but they weren’t. They were just as vulnerable as any other troll, and suddenly I was so angry and upset I couldn’t stand it. __

__My voice shook. “I’m…I’m sorry. I just can’t!”

I spun around and ran back to my alcove, throwing myself onto my bed and wrapping myself tightly in my hair.

Jaunty and Courtley came to talk to me, but I stayed curled up inside my hair-cocoon.

“We’re sorry we scared you, lad.”

“We know you’re not ready yet to let anyone be close to you, to let them in, in case you lose them. We get it, little dude.”

I didn’t say anything. My confidence in them had been severely shaken.

After a long pause, Courtley said softly, “I might have been the same way when I lost the last of my family, except Jaunty wouldn’t let me. We grew up together and have always loved one another, first as best friends, and later as a happily married couple. It took time, though. Like you, I was afraid to let anyone in. But once I did, it made such a difference in my life, little one. It was well worth the risk. I hope one day we can do the same for you.”

They waited for a while, but I wouldn’t answer them. Finally they went away and I relaxed enough to let myself cry.

But he had sounded different than my other foster parents. _None of them have ever understood before. But he said he was afraid to love someone, just like me. Maybe…maybe they’re right. Maybe I should try to-_

A flash of fear and guilt made me clamp down on that thought as the memory of Courtley’s sad yet hopeful face appeared in my mind’s eye. _He reached out to me for comfort, and I turned away from him. He needed me, and I failed him, I failed both of them._ I cringed at the memory. _All they want is for me to love them, but I can’t do it. Not now, and maybe not ever._ For the first time since I’d come to live with them, I cried myself to sleep.

After that, I sometimes said or did something rude or ducked away when they tried to give me an affectionate pat on the back or ruffled my hair. I didn’t want them to care for me because it would hurt them more when I left. I had enough guilt to carry around with me already. The worst part was, I actually _wanted_ to love them. But I didn’t dare.

Most of the time, though, the atmosphere in our pod was laid-back, relaxed. It took time, but I learned to keep up with their playful banter, although whenever conversations got serious I pulled away emotionally, and sometimes physically. Even when I didn’t I’d usually end up squirming and uncomfortable.

Fortunately they didn’t seem inclined to push me to open up and spill out my feelings the way all my other foster parents had, which made it a lot easier to spend time with them without being constantly on guard. And without so much guilt and reminders of my past, I stopped having meltdowns, at least at home.

The healthy diet and vigorous exercise helped a lot, too. I began to sleep through the night, instead of staring up at the pod’s dome for hours or waking too early and not being able to get back to sleep.

For me, home had finally become the place of solace that other trolls took for granted.

-O-

Living with Jaunty and Courtley was different in other ways, too; better than I’d ever had it, even if it hadn’t started out that way. Unlike my other foster parents, they never told me the bergens weren’t a danger to us anymore. And they told me a few things about them that made me feel a little more at ease.

When I’d first come to live with them, I’d spent a lot of time watching for the bergens. I’d go outside and check the area around our pod five or six times before I went to bed every night.

“Why do you go out so often, little dude?” Jaunty had asked me one night.

Reluctantly I’d explained, expecting more vague reassurances, but after a long hesitation Jaunty traded glances with Courtley and said, “Well, if it makes you feel better, why don’t we go for a walk around the village?”

“Great idea,” Courtley agreed. “I could use a little stroll to unwind before bed.”

I blinked. No one else had ever offered to go along with my strange, un-troll-like habits. Before I knew it, I had a faintly amused smile tugging at my lips. “Since when do _you_ need to unwind? You and Jaunty are the two most mellow trolls in the village.”

Courtley looked pleased. “Why, thank you for noticing. We do try our best.”

“Getting a healthy amount of exercise every day is one way to reach the awesome levels of mellowness that Courtley and I share,” Jaunty said breezily. “So, how about that walk?”

“Okay.” Even if they were only doing it to indulge me, I liked the idea of doing a perimeter check before bed, and having the two trolls who were fast becoming my favorite set of foster parents ever wanting to join me made it even better.

“Thanks for coming along with me.” I didn’t look at them directly, instead watching the fascinating patterns Jaunty’s glittery skin cast everywhere as it reflected the moonlight.

“If it’s important to you, it’s important to us.” Courtley put a gentle hand on my shoulder. I only let it stay there for a few seconds before pulling away and speeding up to put a little distance between us. I had a hard enough time letting them hug me during Hug Time.

I still had a strong reflex to duck away every time someone approached me with open arms, and the fact that I liked the two of them so much only made it harder to hold myself still to keep from hugging them back. I couldn’t afford to start caring about them. Also, Courtley’s dark purple hair reminded me of my father’s, and that made it even worse.

“My other foster parents told me that I shouldn’t worry. That we’re safe here, and the bergens aren’t coming,” I said, testing them to see what they would say.

Neither of them spoke for a minute. “Can you understand why they would tell you that?”

“To stop me from freaking out all the time.”

“Well, yes, but why else?”

“Huh? Um…so they don’t have to think about the bergens?”

“No,” Courtley replied.

Jaunty began to laugh. “Well, yes, actually.”

Caught by surprise, Courtley started laughing, too. “You’re right. Perceptive, aren’t you?”

“A regular prodigy, I’d say,” Jaunty agreed cheerfully.

I was pleased at their praise, but I tried not to show it.

Jaunty continued, “The thing is, little dude, we older trolls remember the bergens. Those bergens who aren’t under the influence of troll-induced happiness tend to be apathetic.”

“What’s ‘apathetic’?”

“It means they don’t care. Or can’t.”

I frowned thoughtfully. “That can’t be right. I remember how mad the bergen king was when we escaped. He can’t not care.”

Jaunty and Courtley exchanged looks. “Well, he was the king.” Jaunty shrugged a glittery shoulder. “Most of the others don’t try very hard to accomplish things, and they give up easily. They also don’t work well together. Those of us who grew up in the troll tree saw that, but it’s still hard for us to understand why they are the way they are. We didn’t know what the word ‘apathetic’ meant at first, either.”

Courtley gestured toward the dark forest. “The truth is, lad, no one knows if they’re coming or not. They may show up tomorrow, or they may never bother us again. But-” His tone strengthened. “If they _do_ show up, Jaunty and I figure that one of the best ways to be prepared is to keep in top physical condition. Do you know why?”

“Um, so you can run away faster?”

“Smart lad. So we have the best possible chance to escape, and help others escape, too.”

“Can you help me get in shape, too?”

“Of course, little dude. From what we’ve seen, you’ve already made a good start.”

Again I tried to hide a smile of pleasure, looking down at the ground and watching the delicate, flickering patterns of light change as Jaunty moved.

“So, did what we said help you at all?” Courtley asked.

“Yeah, we’re still getting used to this whole ‘parenting’ thing.” Jaunty winked at me.

I thought about what they’d said. “Well, I like the idea that the bergens may not be looking very hard for us, so yeah, that does make me feel a little better.”

Both of them beamed. “We’re so glad!”

“Um, but since we’re here, is it still okay if I look for bergens while we walk?”

“Sure thing, little dude. We can make this a regular Stroll Patrol,” Jaunty joked.

The Stroll Patrol became a nightly ritual for us as a family, one that I came to treasure. Sometimes we talked about the day’s events or discussed problems we (usually me) were having, and sometimes we just enjoyed a companionable silence.

I liked watching the two of them strolling arm-in-arm, sometimes with their hair entwined, Jaunty’s glittery skin reflecting the moonlight and casting pretty flecks of light on us and our surroundings. It was my favorite part of the day, so peaceful, when all the day’s troubles were over. 

I still kept a watch for the bergens and other dangers, but as time passed, I did it more out of habit than fear. Every so often I would realize that I had forgotten about the bergens for a while, caught up in a conversation with my foster dads. _That’s okay,_ I would tell myself. _It probably just means there was nothing suspicious out there. If there was, I’d have noticed. Wouldn’t I?_

-O-

One night a few months after I’d come to live with Jaunty and Courtley, I went out for our Stroll Patrol with just Courtley. Jaunty had been sick with a cold for the past three days, and for the first two evenings we had stayed home to take care of him.

In fact, neither of us had left the pod except to get food, and supplies for Jaunty. I’d been really scared, that first morning when we woke up to see Jaunty, coughing and sneezing and red-eyed and I’d realized he was sick.

-O-

“Branch. Branch, lad, wake up.” I rolled over at the sound of Courtley’s voice, peering sleepily over my blanket to see an anxious look on his normally genial face.

Instantly alert, I jerked upright, clutching at my blanket. “What’s going on? What’s wrong?” I demanded in frantic, hushed tones.

“Could you come with me for a minute?” he said in an undertone.

_It’s them. They’ve found us at last!_ I slid out of bed, not bothering with my bathrobe or slippers, taking care to make no noise as I followed Courtley from my room to the one he and Jaunty shared.

I hadn’t heard anything; no unusual noises through the thick felt door to my room. _Asking for this door was a bad idea. I didn’t hear a thing!_

__Of course, the silence also let me sleep better, but what good was that if I was zonked out at a time like this, with the village under attack!

“How many bergens are there?” I whispered hoarsely.

“Bergens?” Courtley finally looked back at me, scrunching his face up in puzzlement. “No, it’s Jaunty,” he clarified. “He needs us.”

“What are you-” I stopped short at the sight of Jaunty in bed, looking sweaty and weak, his aqua hair rumpled and his eyes red and puffy. _Oh my gosh, is he sick? Is he dying? What am I gonna do if he dies?_ Panicky thoughts tumbled down over each other, freewheeling out of control. _And if he does, what if Courtley gets so sad that he dies, too? Or just doesn’t want me anymore? Where will I go then? No one else wants me. This is my last chance! I_ know _it!_

I was still sure that the king had been ready to banish me if Poppy hadn’t spoken up for me and taken some of the blame for what had happened on herself. I hadn’t forgotten what she’d done for me. I owed her.

Now my anxiety spiked in a way it hadn’t since the early days when I’d come to live with them. “He was fine when we went to bed. What happened?” My voice rose until it cracked.

Courtley gave me a surprised look that quickly changed to concern. “Oh, he just has a bit of a cold, that’s all.” His tone was considerably more reassuring than the tense worry I’d heard moments before. I noticed the shift, and confusion swept over me.

“So…there’s no danger?”

Courtley exchanged glances with Jaunty, and both of them gave me compassionate looks. “Of course not, lad.” 

Heart pounding, I backed away, then spun around and ran back to my room, throwing the heavy felt door closed behind me. As was my habit whenever I was upset, I dived into my soft warm bed and wrapped myself tightly in the thick, fuzzy felted-wool blanket my foster dads had given me. I used to wrap myself in my hair, but I’d noticed that its heavy weight and warmth made me feel more secure, somehow.

A few minutes later Courtley came and knocked on my door.

“Branch? Are you awake? I’m sorry, lad. I just wanted to ask you to go fetch the doctor. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

I didn’t answer, still feeling a little shaky.

“Branch? Are…are you angry with me?” He sounded worried.

Somehow that made me feel better. I uncoiled myself from my blanket and sat up. “No.”

“May I come in?”

“Yes.”

The sheepish light-purple troll made his way to my bed and stood awkwardly rubbing his elbow. “I’m sorry for scaring you. I should have told you what was going on sooner. It’s my fault.”

It was kind of nice to be the one being apologized to for a change. “Yeah, you should have.”

“So, you forgive me, then?”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“Thank you.” Courtley reach out a big hand and scruffled up my already messy bed-hair. I ducked away, but I was smiling.

-O-

My anxiety that Jaunty would die had eased as he got better.

That first morning I’d been worried sick, convinced that he was dying. “It’s just a cold,” Doc Whipple said reassuringly.

I didn’t believe him. “But he could be dying! We’ve got to do something more for him!”

Doc stared at me thoughtfully, then smiled. “Of course, Branch. Listen, I have an idea. I never have time for it, but I’ve been meaning to do some experimenting to figure out just the right ingredients to make a super-healthy stew that will help people like Jaunty get well faster. Do you think _you_ could possibly help me out?”

I stared at him, curiosity and confusion warring with my anxiety. The Doc kept watching me, his eyes crinkling kindly at the corners until I eventually nodded. “Okay.”

I spent the rest of the morning traveling around the village, asking the doctors and every single troll with medical or herbal knowledge about old remedies, healing plants, and advice. I also read through several cooking and medical scrapbooks and put together a list of ingredients to gather.

The rest of the day I spent experimenting in our kitchen, mixing the ingredients in various ways to make a soup that was both super-healthy, as the Doc wanted, and also tasty enough that even a person who was ill would want to eat it.

It was the first time I’d ever done something like that, but I discovered that it wasn’t as hard as I’d thought. Courtley tried it, and asked me to give some to Jaunty for supper.

The magenta troll liked it. “Whatever you put in there cleared my nose enough so I can actually taste it.”

“That’s probably the menthol from the peppermint and eucalyptus. I didn’t use a lot, ‘cause it’s so strong, and too much can give you tummy trouble,” I explained authoritatively, aware of Courtley watching me with a proud smile. “And I put in other stuff that will blend well and keep it from overpowering the sugarfruit.”

“Well, it’s delicious. What do you call it?”

“Call it? Um…sugarfruit soup?”

“Marvelous.”

Looking after Jaunty turned out to be amusing, since when glitter trolls sneezed, they had a tendency to shoot glitter out the other end. Except for my room, whose door I kept closed, our pod was covered in a layer of fine glitter no matter how often I tried to keep it clean, so, chuckling, Courtley had told me not to bother until Jaunty was feeling better.

The next day I stayed home from school to look after Jaunty during the day to let Courtley sleep, since he’d looked after his husband all day yesterday, and all night long, too, and I was scared that he’d get sick as well.

Jaunty had spent most of the previous day asleep. By noon the next day, he was more alert and able to stay awake longer. I gave him more of my special soup at each meal, and he continued to improve.

I played host to a series of my foster dads’ friends and relatives while Courtley slept. Jaunty was awake some of the time, chatting in between coughing/glitter-spraying bouts.

I discovered that many of the other trolls had some mistaken preconceptions.

“I’m not their son. I’m just staying with them for a while,” I kept correcting them.

“Well, don’t be in a hurry to leave,” they said. Or, “You’re welcome to stay as long as you want.”

One old troll just smiled, as if he understood my fear of getting too close. His voice was raspy and warm as he said, “Well, I’m sure they’re glad you’re here. Courtley doesn’t have any other family besides Jaunty, you know.”

“I didn’t know that.” I looked thoughtfully at Jaunty’s sleeping form, glad that Courtley had such a great troll for a husband.

By noon on the third day, Jaunty was well enough to get up and move around the pod, eating his meals at the table with Courtley and me. That afternoon, we had an unexpected visitor.

“Branch,” said King Peppy. “Just the troll I wanted to see.”

Alarmed, I backed away from the door, my stomach clenching. “You aren’t here to make me leave, are you? I haven’t done anything wrong.”

“I…didn’t say you had,” the king said mildly. “In fact, you’ve done something very right.”

“Huh?”

“I’m here because of the wonderful new healing soup you invented.”

“I didn’t invent it. I just gathered a list of ingredients from everybody and read some stuff in a bunch of healing books and mixed it all up together in the kitchen.”

“Yes, and from what I hear, it’s worked wonders on your foster father. He’s not the only one with this illness, but he’s recovering faster than any of them. I was hoping to ask you for the recipe. You see, little Poppy is sick, too.”

“She is?” I bit my lip, not having heard about my friend. “I can make some more right now and bring it to her. Unless Courtley needs me?”

I glanced at the purple troll, who shook his head. “We should be fine, lad. Go on and help your friend.”

“Okay.” 

I turned to head back into the kitchen, but King Peppy’s voice stopped me. “Thank you, Branch.”

I nodded.

“Oh, and Branch? Don’t be so quick to downplay your accomplishments. You may have gotten the information from other sources, but you did all the work. You did the research and the gathering and the testing, and figured out just the right combination of ingredients. That’s not an easy task. In fact, I’d like you to write down your recipe and give it to each of the village doctors, too.”

“Really?” My ears flipped back in astonishment. “You think it’s that important?”

“Of course, my boy. You should be proud of yourself. I know _we_ are all proud of you, right?”

There was a hearty chorus of agreement from my foster dads, and I blushed, ducking my head down on my chest and squeezing my ears against the sides of my head. It was nice, but the attention embarrassed me, too.

I stood there silently blushing until the king chuckled and told me to run along. “I’ll go tell the princess you’re coming. She’ll be so happy to see you.”

As I went into the kitchen, a small, proud smile crossed my face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I chose the title for the chapter, A New Kind of Family, based on both that Jaunty and Courtley are two married males, and the fact that for the first time Branch is living with people who understand his tendency to overreact to any perceived danger because they themselves have gone through a lot of bad things. It’s a sign of the PTSD that many of the trolls seem to suffer from to some degree. In the series, ever notice the way they panic over silly things like Poppy running out of glitter?
> 
> One of the reasons Branch subconsciously clicked with Courtley in particular was the way he reminded Branch of his original father.
> 
> In the world of the trolls, I decided that they’d probably never heard of the concept of apathy until they met the bergens. Caring and feelings are very important to trolls, after all.
> 
> This question was asked by MissMyMy on Archive of Our Own: “I agree with Branch about the twins and their hair. I was a little taken aback when Poppy got defensive. I got where she was coming from, but Branch made some solid points. Also, she expected them to marry the same troll? What are the trolls views on monogamy/polygamy in this world?”
> 
> My answer: Hi! Good questions. As to Poppy getting defensive, that's what she did in a scene (I think it was one of the Ask Poppy clips on Youtube) where Branch asks curiously "why don't we just cut the hair?" And Poppy scolds him "Branch!" and apologizes to the twins, saying the Branch is still not good at social cues, and he whines, "What did I say?" like he didn't understand. And everyone else acted shocked that he would even say that. But since no one told him (in the clip) just WHY what he'd said was so offensive, my best guess is that the twins' hair is considered a deformity, like conjoined human twins, and it's not nice to say things about people with deformities. And I think it's because he's not used to the twins that he even imagines that they could be separated; it never occurs to anyone else. So that clip was also a reminder of Branch's past, when he was an outsider.
> 
> As to marriage and polygamy, in The Beat Goes on TV series, it seemed logical to me that at least some trolls think of the twins as a single person. There was an episode, The Giver, where Smidge kept correcting Poppy when she was interrogating the twins, because Poppy kept saying they had "a" suspect rather than "two" suspects. So I figured maybe Poppy would think they'd both marry one troll because they are "one". Also, the Poppy from the movie seems a little more naive than the series Poppy (which makes sense, since Princess Poppy is younger and less experienced than Queen Poppy) and so I feel like she'd be agreeable if the twins and a third troll announced that they all wanted to get married.
> 
> This all goes back to my idea that trolls in general are more tolerant of a wider range of unusual behaviors than we humans. I can't imagine there would be a law against polygamy, but I also doubt it's common, either. Who in the trolls' world wouldn't want to find their one true love?
> 
> Mind you, I doubt having the twins get married to the same troll would work out. Someone would be sure to get jealous. But Poppy isn't like Branch (who anticipates trouble) and would either never think of that, or she would be optimistic that it would be a happy marriage anyway. Which again, I doubt. They fight enough as it is. I would guess they'd only go through with it if they felt they had no other choice, which is why I had Branch tell Satin she was an individual, to get her to start thinking of herself that way, with the goal of eventually helping her and Chenille make the decision to cut their hair and live separate lives.
> 
> Maybe that's too sophisticated and subtle for TV series Branch, adorably socially awkward as he is, but in my story I chose to focus on the whole "outsider's perspective" thing instead, because I feel like if he were put in a situation where he could interact with just one twin, he'd become aware of her plight and want to fix it. Poppy would have, too; years ago, if she weren't so used to the twins.
> 
> Anyway, I'm glad you picked up on that. I actually wasn't going to have any of Branch and Poppy's friends show up all day (you will find out why later) but then I realized I wanted to address the twins' plight, and having our lovebirds need new clothes was the perfect way to do so (as well as do another 'nudity is okay' scene). It just worked out nicely like that.


	19. The History of the Trolls and the Bergens

Another thing that was different about living with Jaunty and Courtley was that they were more willing to talk about things that other trolls wouldn’t, or couldn’t; unhappy things, even disturbing things. But they were things I needed to hear.

It was Courtley who gave me a long-overdue lesson on the history of the trolls and the bergens.

-O-

By the third morning, Jaunty was almost over his cold, and had urged Courtley and me not to miss our evening walk again. As we strolled along, I thought about the past few days and how unexpectedly good it had felt to help Courtley take care of the usually-jolly magenta glitter troll.

Until now, I’d been the one everyone focused on. I’d been the one causing difficulties and worry. It was a nice change to be one of the trolls doing the caring, for once.

I realized that I’d liked taking care of him. I’d liked being needed, liked how strong and capable it made me feel, to sit by Jaunty's side and put cool cloths on his forehead and read to him to keep him from being bored. To let him put a sweaty hand on my shoulder to keep his balance as he made his shaky, fever-dizzy way to the bathroom. I’d been needed, and his and Courtley's grateful thanks of appreciation had felt really good to me.

This time I hadn’t let them down. 

_Maybe I should be a doctor when I grow up. Or a nurse,_ I mused, peacefully breathing in the cool night air as Courtley and I continued our stroll.

I had a lot to think about tonight. Besides King Peppy, the other trolls had begun to look at me in a different way than they ever had before, with interest and pleasure, not wariness. And they were praising me.

I wasn’t used to being praised, but I discovered I loved it. I recalled with pride all the comments on how smart I was for creating the healing soup, how special I was, how caring, and how natural I looked as I sat next to Jaunty, feeding him the soup, a damp towel draped over my shoulder to clean his face when he was done eating.

I was even praised for how quick I was to shield the soup with my hair when Jaunty sneezed and a cloud of glitter went up. Organic troll-glitter wasn’t poisonous, of course, but I didn’t want it to dilute the healing properties of my special soup. I wanted Jaunty to get well as fast as possible.

As Courtley and I walked along the familiar route, my thoughts began to drift in familiar directions. Suddenly I stopped short.

“What’s wrong, Branchkin?” the tall light-purple troll at my side asked.

Jaunty had begun calling me by the odd nickname a few weeks ago. It had annoyed me at first, but then Courtley had picked it up. It had embarrassed me, but at the same time I’d been flattered that the two best athletes in the village had given me a nickname, no matter how silly. I’d gotten used to answering to it, even when other trolls used it, and I rarely noticed it now.

“I didn’t do a patrol last night! Or the night before! I forgot all about it!”

“Well, you _were_ a bit busy helping me care for Jaunty. I’m so glad you were there, lad. He’s never been so sick before. I honestly don’t know what I would have done without you.”

I was torn between pleasure at the praise and guilt at my negligence. “What if the bergens had come, or some other predator, with Jaunty lying in bed, helpless?”

Courtley was silent.

I bristled. “I know, you’re gonna tell me they aren’t coming and that I’m being silly to worry so much.”

“I would never say that, lad.” Courtley’s deep, steady voice comforted me as much as his words. “You aren’t silly. In fact, you could stand to be a little bit _more_ silly, maybe, but you’re as clever and caring and hard-working as any troll I’d wish to meet, and Jaunty and I feel very lucky to have the privilege and pleasure of having you with us.”

I kept quiet, unsure where he was going with this, although I couldn’t help but feel a warm glow inside.

We walked for a little while in the soft nighttime moonglow before Courtley nodded to himself and took a deep breath. “Has anyone ever talked to you about the bergens, Branch?”

“No. They say it’s not healthy to obsess about them so much.”

“Then, what are your thoughts about them?”

It took me a minute to decide what to say. No one had ever asked me anything like that before. “Well, they might talk and wear clothes, but they’re not real people. They can’t be.”

“Why would you say that?”

“Bergens don’t have feelings. Not like we do.”

He looked surprised. I sighed and got ready for a lecture song on how Everything Has Feelings And We Should Respect Them Because That’s How We All Live In Harmonyyyyy.

Instead, I got a pleased smile. “You’re quite the deep thinker, Branch. Always asking for answers, or seeking them on your own until you’re satisfied. I respect that.”

“You do?”

Courtley nodded and looked into the distance. “You remind me of a certain impetuous young female troll I used to know…” For a minute his expression resembled mine when I looked into a mirror: unhappy. Then he shook his head and smiled down at me.

“But in this case, your conclusion is based only on the bergens you remember from four years ago. Well, it’s true that they have their own ways, very different from us in some ways, but not so different in others.”

“Well, since ‘their ways’ say it’s okay for them to eat trolls, to me they’ll always be nothing more than monsters.”

“Maybe they _are_ monsters, now,” Courtley murmured, almost more to himself than to me. “But has anyone ever told you that the bergens weren’t always as you remember them?”

I looked up at him with wide eyes. “They weren’t?”

“Well, lad, I wasn’t much older than you when the first bergen discovered us. Back then, the bergens were bold and fierce and proud, traveling through the forest in small groups, hunting and gathering as they went. I remember that although they were quick to anger, they were also very clever and technologically advanced in some ways, since unlike us, they were too big to work with the forest bugs and animals as we do. So instead, they’d had to invent all kinds of nonliving things to help them. Maybe that desensitized them to the feelings of other creatures, like us trolls.”

Some of this I remembered seeing for myself, but what Courtley said next stunned me.

“But even so, they _did_ know how to laugh.”

I flicked my ears back in surprise. “Bergens don’t laugh. Everyone knows that!”

“Just listen, lad. Remember how Jaunty and I told you how the bergens don’t work well together? Well, they used to, and they accomplished many marvels we trolls had never thought of. We learned a lot from watching them, those early years, before their growing dependence on troll happiness became all they thought about. We had plenty of opportunities. We watched them build an entire town around the Troll Tree. At first, we were even happy about that, because as trolls, of course we loved having company.”

“What? That’s crazy. They wanted to _eat_ you! Why didn’t you all escape while you had the chance?”

“We didn’t know, Branchkin. We thought they were our friends.”

“Your _friends?”_

“Branchkin, when trolls first started to go missing, we had no idea what had happened to them. We searched for them, but of course, we never found them. We thought there must be some new predator in the area that had developed a taste for trolls, so we spent a lot of time tracking the forest creatures and searching through the forest. The bergens even pretended to be concerned, and volunteered to help us look for our missing loved ones. Many times, the trolls that went with them to search…never returned.” His voice broke, and I bit my lip.

“I’m sorry,” I said softly, wondering whom he had lost. “That must have been so awful.”

Courtley took a deep breath as he ran a hand through his luxurious dark hair, looking much like my own in the darkness, a tower of black with purple-green highlights reflected from the glimmer bug that rode on the top of my own shorter black thatch. 

It took him a moment to continue. “The bergens told us they were eaten by all kinds of predators. Their king saw to it that only a few of the royal staff had access to the tree, and none of them ever let on what was really going on, so it took many years before we found out what – or rather _who_ \- the real predators were. In fact, it was little Princess Poppy’s mother, Daisy, who discovered the truth.”

“Really?”

“We were classmates, and good friends. She was a brave, clever troll with a wonderfully playful nature. She was also, incidentally, something of a rule-breaker. One day she hid in the chef’s hat, planning to stick a rainbow sparkler in her hair to shower them all in glitter, and ended up in the kitchen. She overheard the bergens talking about…about what really happened to the trolls who disappeared. They were all kept in another part of the castle, and once a year there was a…a sort of holida…”

He stopped speaking, and I noticed his hands shaking. I felt a great sadness sweep over me, remembering all those I had lost, and then a pang of remorse. _He grew up a prisoner of the bergens. He must have lost so many people he cared about._

For the first time in my life, I felt an impulse to reach out and hold his hand to comfort him, but just then the little glimmer on my head flew down and hovered in front of his chest, humming a concerned trill. The tall troll lifted his hands to press the bug affectionately to his cheek. The alarmingly harsh lines of strain on his face lit up by the soft glow began to relax. “Sorry, Branchkin. It’s not easy to talk about it.”

“You don’t have to,” I said.

“No, it’s all right lad. I had a point to all this. Well, the shock of what she heard was so great that she let herself be seen. They tried to capture her but she escaped, and managed make it back to the troll tree and tell the king and queen what was really going on. King Peppy told me once that that was the moment he fell in love with her, standing there all covered in taco sauce after her terrifying adventure in the kitchen, but showing not an ounce of fear. She wanted to go right back out and confront the bergens then and there.”

“Wow. Did she do it?”

“No. You see, Peppy’s parents had spent over a decade believing that the bergens were their friends, and so they tried to tell her that she was mistaken. She insisted, so they relented and told her that they would go talk to the bergens. The next morning they left the tree for the first time in many years…and never returned.”

“The bergen king claimed he hadn’t seen them. Daisy wanted to search the castle, but Peppy begged her not to, saying that with his parents gone, he needed her more than he’d ever needed anyone before. A few weeks later, among his grieving people, Peppy took over as the new king, and Daisy became his wife.”

“Soon after that the bergens began to construct a vast cage around the troll tree. To keep us safe, they claimed, but Daisy knew what was really going on. She tried to tell our people, but I’m sorry to say they didn’t believe her. She was a famous prankster, you see. She _did_ manage to convince Peppy to investigate and gather proof to convince the trolls that the only thing we could do was leave the troll tree.”

“Why wouldn’t they want to leave?”

“Because the bergens had managed to convince everyone that the forest was the real danger, and that the cage was the only way to stay safe. So King Peppy asked for volunteers to investigate the bergens. Jaunty and I were two of them.”

“Really?” I was fascinated. “Like detectives? What did you find out? Did you find Queen Daisy’s proof?”

“We found some evidence. I tore a page out of a book in the kitchen that explained how to cook…” He stopped, looking half-sick.

“How to cook trolls?” I asked grimly.

He nodded. “It got our people’s attention, but it wasn’t enough to make them want to set off into the scary forest, so we kept looking. If any of our people were being kept prisoner somewhere, it wasn’t in the castle any more. We began to investigate the town, but we could only do it when we could sneak away from the bergens.”

I was totally captivated by the story. “Couldn’t Queen Daisy help you?”

“She did what she could, lad, but by then she was expecting Princess Poppy. There was only so much she could do. She did come up with the idea that eventually got us free, though.”

“You mean tricking the bergens with trolls carved out of wood?”

“Right, lad.”

“So how did you manage to convince everyone to escape?”

Courtley’s face grew still and heavy. “We didn’t. It was Queen Daisy. Not long after she had Poppy, she made a big announcement that she was going to confront the bergens and get them to stop doing bad things to us, and she said that if she didn’t return, they would know who was responsible. And she left.”

“And she never came back.”

“…No.”

We walked in silence, until I heard Courtley sniff. He could have caught Jaunty’s cold, but I didn’t think so. Again, I felt the urge comfort him. This was all history to me, but he had actually known and loved all these trolls who had died.

“Courtley.” I reached out a hand and placed it on his arm. “I’m so sorry.”

He turned to look down at me, his eyes wide with surprise, rimmed with unshed tears. I felt my own eyes well up, and I opened my arms and held them out to him and he swooped me up, hugging me tightly. “Branchkin. Oh, Branchkin.”

I hugged him back, but when I was ready to stop, he wasn’t. That was normal for trolls, of course, but not for me. It was too much. I began to struggle, pushing against him until he set me back on my feet.

I turned away, trying to hide my shame. Any other troll would have hugged Courtley as long as he needed.

Courtley’s voice drifted over to me. “Thank you, lad. I needed that hug.”

I looked down at the ground and felt my mouth curve into a small smile.

A few minutes later, after mulling things over in my mind, I asked softly, “Courtley, can I ask you something?”

“Of course, lad. Anything.”

“Well, I still don’t understand why nobody tried to escape until Queen Daisy had to sacrifice herself. It just doesn’t make _sense._ Even if they didn’t believe it was the bergens, obviously there was _something_ taking them away.”

“You’re right, Branchkin, but you see, our relationship with the bergens was a complicated one. The decision to escape wasn’t an easy answer. You see, most of us cared about them.”

“What? No way!” I said incredulously.

“Remember, we thought they were our friends. And even after King Peppy learned what was really going on, he told me once that he had come to feel a certain amount of responsibility to the bergens.”

“To the _bergens?_ How _could_ he? They _ate_ us!”

“Yes, they did. But do you remember what I said about how they changed from the way they used to be? How they used to live in small tribes, hunting and gathering most of what they needed from the forest, fiercely wild and free?”

“Yes,” I said reluctantly.

“I think being forced to live close to the Troll Tree and to one another was hard on them. Being dependent on us for their happiness was even more so. In a way, _we_ were the ones holding _them_ captive. Does that make sense?”

I shook my head. “Not really.”

Courtley ruffled my hair. “I know. It took me a while to sort it all out in my head. I expect it sounds a bit crazy, doesn't it?”

“It sure does,” I agreed.

“My point is, Branchkin, those of us who remember what the bergens were like when we first met them hope that they’ll get better, that they’ll go back to the way they were before they ever met us. And with every year that passes, that hope grows. And I hope, little Branchkin, that what I’ve said makes you feel better, too.”

-O-

We never spoke of that conversation again, but in later years I thought about it a lot. Maybe, in a seriously bizarre way, we _had_ been partially responsible for their misery, but that was no excuse for what they’d done to us. And if some of them resented us for their dependence, all they’d had to do was let us go!

I learned a little more bergen history in school as an older trolling. 

We had once had over three hundred trolls in the village. It had taken a long time to deplete that number, in part because at first, we kept having more trollings. It took many years for the survivors to become hesitant to bring new life into the world, but from that point on our numbers began to drop alarmingly, to the point that when King Peppy fell in love with a brave, pushy, confident pink female, he began to listen to her when she urged him to try to escape.

“I know things have been this way for a long time,” Daisy had told him. “But things are changing. I know you don’t want to anger the bergens if we try and fail to escape, but if we don’t do it soon, there won’t be enough of us left to do what’s needed to build a new home and survive out there!”

When she sacrificed herself, Peppy went gray for almost a month. So did some of his people, although all of them eventually regained their colors over the next several months. It disturbed Peppy to see them so downhearted, but he needed time to grieve, too.

Then Rosiepuff, one of the few remaining elders and one of the people Peppy had always been able to turn to in times of need, had been taken. I, her only grandchild, had gone gray and fretful, and had never recovered. The final straw had been when Chef chose his own child, a trolling less than two years old, to be one of the trolls sacrificed at the next Trollstice. From a lover to a fighter, Peppy had acted upon his beloved wife’s escape plan, and never looked back. 

-O-

Another thing I really appreciated about my foster dads was how they never tried to make me sing. They enjoyed singing, of course, but their real passion was for any kind of physical activity.

“You don’t sing? Seriously?”

“No. I don’t like it.”

“But why not, lad?”

Blue and aqua eyes gazed at me in astonishment.

“I just don’t. I don’t like to sing!”

I started to tense up. My ears flattened as I looked down and to the side, feeling my shoulders hunch forward as I crossed my arms over my belly.

I’d been through this scene many, many times, and it always ended badly. The more they tried to convince me that not singing was wrong, that I should be advertising my feelings (and thus my presence) to the world at the top of my lungs, the stronger my instinct to clamp down, to run, to escape. If they kept pushing, I’d snap, and lash out: throwing things, breaking things, or knocking over cans of water or paint or glue to deliberately ruin arts and crafts projects. Then I’d stomp off, leaving sounds of dismay in my wake.

I sensed the two of them exchange glances, and then Courtley took a step toward me and knelt down. 

Suddenly I was looking at a pair of light blue eyes just like mine, except for a few light wrinkles at the corners that gave his face a wise, kindly appearance. Against my better judgement, I felt my resolve weakening. _Maybe it’s okay if Courtley says so…_

But instead he said, “It’s all right, lad. You don’t have to sing if you don’t want to.”

“Really?”

Surprised, I looked up at Jaunty, who nodded and smiled. He came forward to place a gentle hand on my head, stroking my hair back in an unexpectedly soothing motion. “No, of course not. You don’t have to sing unless you want to, kiddo. It’s no big deal.”

I was silent, looking wonderingly from one to the other as I slowly relaxed. I let Jaunty’s hand stay on my head, its warm weight steadying me as Courtley stood up and comfortingly patted my back.

“Okay.”

-O-

Never before had I had foster parents with whom I was so in tune, who understood so much about me without me having to say anything. And it didn’t seem as if they were making sacrifices to accommodate my needs; it felt natural. Like a real family.

I’d never seriously believed it could happen, but I wondered sometimes if they might really, truly want me. For good.

And I wondered if I might actually want them, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I spend a lot of time on Branch’s early life, when he had closer, more intimate relationships with the people in his life. Later on they are less intense, because with each new loss he had begun to pull away emotionally from the other trolls until he reaches the point where he cuts himself off completely. Well, except for a certain pink troll who never gave up on him.
> 
> I believe in educating kids, not hiding knowledge until they are ‘old enough’. I remember when I was a kid, many of the things that scared me were harmless but no one bothered to explain them. Now we have the Internet, which helps, but it will never take the place of face-to-face conversation with a caring person who can explain things in a way that responds to your emotional needs.


	20. The Big Goodbye

“So how’s your boy doing?”

My ears twitched as I recognized the king’s jovial voice.

“Oh, he’s doing great!”

_Is that Jaunty?_

I forgot about the sugarfruit I’d been looking for and moved closer, peering through the thick bushes that blocked my view. Curious, I moved sideways until I could see the aqua-blue hair and glittery bright magenta skin of one of my foster dads as he stood chatting with the king, whose orange skin and dark reddish-magenta hair were unmistakable. My other foster dad, Courtley, with skin and hair of light and dark purple, stood near his husband Jaunty.

I tilted my ears forward to hear them better, but habit kept me from joining my family. After what had happened between Poppy and me, I’d gone out of my way to escape the king’s attention. I’d even asked Poppy to avoid mentioning me to her dad if she could. She hadn’t really understood why, but by now she was used to my odd requests.

“He’s a fine lad,” Courtley commented warmly. “Jaunty and I couldn’t be more proud of him if he were our own.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” the king said sincerely.

I smiled with bashful pride. Even after almost two years of living with Jaunty and Courtley in relative contentment, it still felt strange to hear that someone actually wanted me around. They were great foster dads, caring and fun-loving and always encouraging me, but unlike any other family I’d ever stayed with, we didn’t talk much about the touchy-feely stuff. I really appreciated that. 

“So has he ever, uh…”

I heard something I’d rarely heard in Jaunty’s normally-enthusiastic voice: disappointment. “No, his colors haven’t returned. We were hoping it would have happened by now.”

Stung, I dropped the small wicker basket I was carrying on the grass. _I thought they didn’t care about that!_

“Are you sure? Not even a _little?_ Not even when we celebrated the sixth anniversary of our escape last month?”

“Actually...” Courtley exchanged glances with Jaunty, who sighed with what looked like discouragement and nodded. The light purple troll turned back to the king, grimacing apologetically. “He uh, he’s gone through a rather rough time over the last few weeks. Acting anxious, refusing food, stomping off angrily when we tried to get him to play with us… It’s been bad. We’ve had to spend quite a lot of time reassuring him.”

Peppy made a series of _tsk_ noises, shaking his head. “Well, that’s…regrettable.”

I scowled. _Well, excuse me for being traumatized! Seriously, though, has it ever occurred to them that I might actually ‘get happy’ if they’d actually take the bergen menace seriously and do some brainstorming to find solutions instead of just pretending the problem doesn’t exist? I mean it! I’d be ecstatic!_

“And the _nightmares!”_ Jaunty shook his head, his hands on his hips. “Every night. It breaks our hearts, Peppy… He’s so on edge, he can’t relax.”

_Guys, stop it! You don’t have to tell him that!_

“At least this year he finally let us comfort him,” Courtley added. “After a week of constant nightmares, he asked if he could sleep with us in our bed. It helped him feel safer, so the poor lad could finally get some sleep.”

Despite my exasperation, I couldn’t help smiling a little, recalling how soothing it had been to have two big strong trolls to lean against, feeling my tension ease as the constant, nagging pressure to _do something_ finally quieted. Tight muscles warmed and relaxed. Racing thoughts slowed, grew languid and still. Drifting, I listened to my quick, shallow breathing growing slow and heavy to match theirs before I drifted off into a deep, healing sleep.

Last year I had pretended everything was fine when the anniversary of our escape came around, stirring up my sense of danger and irritation at everyone’s complacency, as it did every year around this time. _I suppose I_ was _a little cranky… And the only reason I decided to ask for help this year was because it only makes sense to stay in top shape for when the bergens find us, to have the best chance to escape, and help the other trolls escape, too. I mean, I was so exhausted I was falling asleep in class and stumbling over my own feet. It was the logical thing to do._

_Well…and maybe I_ did _want them to comfort me. So what? Can’t a trolling want comfort from his…from his dads?_ I bit my lip, looking away from the three adults as a silly, embarrassed grin spread over my face.

It had taken me a long time to admit to myself that I loved them, and even now, I’d never said it to them. But I’d been working on that. _I’m gonna do it this year. We’ll be celebrating the anniversary of the day I came to live with them and we became a family soon. I’m gonna hug them and say I love them and ask if I can call them ‘Dad’. Or Father, or Pop or something. Whatever they want._ I’d been practicing saying it in the mirror when no one was home, and saying it to bugs and forest creatures to get used to it so I wouldn’t falter or stammer when the time came. I was really looking forward to the joy I knew would be on their faces when I finally said it.

“Well, I’m sure he’ll get his colors back someday,” the king said encouragingly. “In the meantime, focus on addressing his physical needs. Trolls who are anxious often neglect self-care, which causes all kinds of mental and emotional problems that they may not even realize are partly due to not eating or eating only comfort foods, not bathing, not sleeping, not socializing…”

“Right you are, dude,” Jaunty agreed enthusiastically. “And we make sure he gets plenty of good, hearty exercise to work _off_ some of that stress and work _up_ an appetite. He’s become quite the baker, lately; did we tell you? You’ve gotta try his brownies.”

Courtley jumped in before the king could answer. “Yes, and aside from these last few weeks, he’s been sleeping so much better. We keep to a rigorous schedule of sports and games; rock-climbing, swimming, oh, all sorts of fun things. You should join us sometime.”

“I’d love to, if I can find some free time. How about next week?”

I started to zone out and turned to leave, not really interested in small talk, but then a strange comment made me pause.

“So my strategy has been working, then?” the king asked.

I narrowed my eyes. _Strategy? What strategy?_

“Oh, yes, Jaunty and I have done just what you suggested, and it seems to be working. We never speak of it to Branchkin. He’s happier that way. Well, not that he’s ever _happy_ , exactly, but you get the idea.”

_They never speak of_ what? _What’s going on?_

“Good. And remember, don’t ever be dismissive about his fears. He has the best interests of the village at heart, and that is very commendable. And after all, he’s right. The bergens _are_ still out there, and there _is_ a chance that they could find us again someday.”

My jaw dropped. _Of all the- Did he just admit I’m right? So much for ‘Oh, Branch, you’re such a downer, still worrying about the bergens after so many years. You need to get out more’._ I growled in outrage.

“What was that?” King Peppy tilted his head and Jaunty and Courtley looked around curiously. I stifled my mouth with both hands.

After a moment, Jaunty added, “Yeah, we don’t mention the bergens or anything else that disturbs him if we can avoid it. That way he can focus on the here-and-now, instead of what happened in the past or what might happen in the future.”

_What?_ I was shocked. _They’re deliberately misdirecting my attention? What do they think I am, some scared little trolling that needs to be distracted from his bad dreams?…I guess I am, kind of. But the bergens are_ real!

“Oh, he’s so lucky to have two wonderful guardians like you.” King Peppy sounded pleased. “You two are doing a fantastic job. Well, I must be off now. Keep up the good work.”

_A job? Is that what am, just some kind of a job to them?_

I knew that wasn’t true, but inside I felt shaken, betrayed by this revelation about the two trolls I trusted most.

-O-

I waited until King Peppy was gone, then burst through the bush to land in front of my foster dads with a dramatic thump.

“Branch!”

“Nice landing, dude!”

I put my hands on my hips. “Okay, guys. What have you ‘not spoken to me’ about?”

Jaunty and Courtley exchanged glances, then Jaunty cleared his throat. “Um, well…”

“Nothing to get alarmed about,” Courtley said lightly.

“Tell me!”

The looked at one another, and Jaunty said weakly, “But the king said we shouldn’t…”

“Come on, guys! I’m almost twelve now. I’m not a little trolling anymore. What are you hiding?”

Again, they looked at each other, and Jaunty nodded. Courtley sighed and turned to me. “Do you remember a while back when I went on that trip with the other trolls to gather medicinal plants for Doc Whipple?”

“After that time Jaunty got sick with a fever?”

“Right. The Doc used up his supply of the dried herbs he’d brought with us when we escaped, so once Jaunty here was on the road to recovery, I volunteered to go with a group out into the forest to get the plants we needed to add to his herb garden.”

“I remember. I really wanted to go with you, but you asked me to stay here and take care of Jaunty, so I did.”

Courtley shifted uncomfortably, and I narrowed my eyes. “Something happened out there, didn’t it?”

Neither of them spoke, but their silence could only mean one thing.

“You ran into bergens, didn’t you?”

Courtley held up his hands. “No, no, we were perfectly safe. Never saw a single bergen. But…”

“But what?”

“We did see signs of them.”

I sucked in a breath. “What signs?”

“Litter, mostly, and the remains of a campfire. Footprints, all from the same bergen, right near the open root tunnels. Broken twigs and other signs showed that they’d wandered around the nearby forest, although the signs petered out about halfway between there and here.”

“Bergens… I _told_ you they were still hunting us. I told everyone!” I yelled, torn between triumph, terror, and fury.

“Now, get hold of yourself, Branchkin. Remember, this was over a year ago.”

“Were the signs fresh?” I demanded.

“Relatively. The old boot we found only had a thin layer of dust on it.”

“We’ve gotta tell King Peppy. We’ve gotta move the village!” This time my voice came out high-pitched, frantic.

“Kiddo, we _did_ tell the king. We told him as soon as we got back.”

I was stunned. “And he didn’t _do_ anything?”

“Of course he did. He sent a few teams out to explore, all quiet-like, and posted guards around the perimeter of the village day and night for months afterward, just in case. And as you know, nothing happened. No attacks, no sightings, no signs of them at all. If the bergen by the root tunnels _was_ searching for us – and I’m not saying they were; for all we know they were just on a camping trip – if they _were_ searching for us, they obviously decided to look somewhere else. ”

Jaunty said reassuringly, “We’re still safe, little buddy. There’s nothing to worry about.”

“But we aren’t. They’re still looking for us. They are!”

I gave them a pleading look, but Courtley just shook his head and said firmly, “Now calm down, Branchkin. We won’t have you worrying yourself sick.”

“You know, despite what you think, there _are_ other trolls in this village who are capable of seeing to its safety besides you, kiddo.” Jaunty draped a reassuring arm over my shoulders. “It’s not your job to carry the weight of the village on your own small shoulders, all by yourself.”

“Although we appreciate your concern. We truly do, lad. And we’re proud of you.” Courtley joined his husband, enveloping me in a secure embrace.

I let them hug me, taking guilty comfort in their warm, safe closeness. “I know. It’s just… You should have told me.”

“King Peppy asked us not to worry the trolls unnecessarily. All of them, not just you. And you were still worried about Jaunty being ill. Remember, you’d only been with us a few months. You were still having trouble sleeping through the night, then. The truth is, we were more worried about you than the bergens.”

“We’ve got your back, kid. Let the grownups handle the tough things, and you just go back to focusing on what’s important to you.”

_That’s just it._ Nothing’s _more important to me than everyone’s safety, especially yours._

-O-

After one particularly bad day, I sat on my bed and buried my face in my hands.

_I can’t do this anymore._

I had spent weeks trying to forget what I had heard, to forgive their well-intentioned deception. I really had. But every time one of them suggested we toss a ball around or go boingo-fruit riding or swimming or whatever, I’d picture King Peppy saying, “Keep him occupied so he won’t have time to worry.”

Then I’d imagine Jaunty answer, “No problem. We enjoy the challenge.”

And Courtley would say something like, “He’s a smart lad. Keeps us on our toes, that one,” with his voice full of pride for me.

I knew they thought they were doing it for my own good, so I tried to put it out of my mind and go back to the way things used to be, but the truth was, I felt like I was being watched, and that they were reporting everything I did to the king.

On some level I knew I was being paranoid; but then, I wasn’t sleeping much. King Peppy been right about that. Still, if I didn’t deal with the cause of my insomnia, my mental state was only going to get worse.

I started snapping at people, cutting in line, neglecting to say ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ and a lot of other socially unacceptable things. I had several very uncomfortable conversations with my foster dads, gently being cajoled into apologizing to the trolls I had offended and promising to do better.

But I couldn’t.

_I thought they understood me. Nobody else has ever seem to take me seriously. Nobody else has ever really listened to me before. Now I wonder how much of that ‘understanding’ was just you guys humoring me._

I knew they’d hidden the truth because they loved me. But as much as I fought against it, after weeks of sleepless nights, with thoughts bouncing back and forth behind clenched eyelids, eventually I admitted the truth: 

_If I can’t trust you to tell me something as important as this, then…I can’t trust you at all._

-O-

With the muted sounds of the Beadfest off in the distance, I napped on. At some level I was aware of some kind of quiet activity going on around me, but the soft, cheery sound of Poppy’s voice and the feel of her hands in my hair reassured me. I felt safe with her.

As I sank deeper into sleep, my mind was caught up in a maelstrom, agonizing over what I should do about Jaunty and Courtley before I finally decided to ask Laurel for the advice that would unintentionally lead to my infamous Incident. But as disastrous as that advice turned out to be, the months I spent living alone also taught me just how much a haven having a place of my very own could be, and I never forgot that.

-O-

“I want a pod of my own.”

“What?”

“For my twelfth birthday, I want a pod of my own,” I repeated.

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Good joke, lad.”

“Do I ever joke?” I gave them a sardonic look.

“Well, no, but…”

“Are you unhappy here?”

Deadpan, I said, “Guys, I’m Branch. I’m never happy.”

There was an awkward silence, and then I lifted an eyebrow. “I’m kidding.”

Courtley blinked. “Wait, I thought you said-”

“For real, an actual joke?” Jaunty looked delighted, and laughed.

“So you really _don’t_ want a pod of your own. Ha ha, good joke, lad-”

I waved my hands in the air. “No, I meant I was joking about not joking – I – ahhh!” I lifted my face to the sky, groaning. “Guys, let’s not get off track here. I was _not_ joking about wanting a pod of my own.”

They exchanged concerned looks.

“But…why?” Courtley asked softly.

“Don’t you like it here, Branchkin?”

Now they were following my mental script.

“Whaaat?” I denied lightly, turning on all of my persuasiveness and managing a fairly credible smile. “It’s been great here, really. Better than great. I’ve learned so much from you both over the last two years – how to cook and clean and take care of a garden, how to do a triple backflip on a zipper while throwing a buzzyball into the net with my hair… I can play all kinds of sports and run for a long time without getting out of breath. I can catch fish and pick mushrooms and berries and gather wild herbs at the edge of the forest, and lots more stuff; I really can’t thank you enough.”

“You’re very welcome, lad, but what does that have to do with…”

“Well, you’ve always encouraged me to challenge myself, right? So I’ve been thinking: what could be a greater challenge than me living alone, taking care of myself with no help from anybody?”

“That’s not exactly what we meant by ‘challenge’, little dude.”

“If you just want to challenge yourself, why not a camping trip for a few nights by yourself?”

“It’s hard to explain.” Actually, I’d planned it all out ahead of time, coming up with a few good reasons to explain why I needed to leave the first stable home I’d ever had, but I had to be careful to not to show them how hard it was for me to ask to leave.

“Remember how scared I was that the king was going to banish me because I hit the princess? Well, the thing is…I still am.”

“No one’s going to banish you, lad.” Courtley smiled in the fatherly way that even now I found reassuring.

“It’s not that. I meant that I still have this fear, deep down, that I’m still a helpless little trolling who can’t take care of himself if the worst should ever happen.” I spread out my hand. “This is something I need to do. To build up my confidence and prove to myself that I’m not helpless anymore. Please, guys. Let me do this. Who knows? It might be just the trick to make me happy and get back my true colors.”

I felt a stab of guilt for lying to them, for dangling the ‘happiness’ carrot in front of their faces. The last thing this would do was make me happy.

“Well, maybe…” Jaunty looked questioningly at his husband.

Always the more perceptive of the two, Courtley rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Branchkin, you’ve never mentioned wanting a pod of your own before. Is there something else going on?”

Jaunty shrugged and I could see him visibly trying to throw off the strained atmosphere between us. “Why don’t we all go for a nice game of-”

_Aw, they’re not gonna let me do it!_

“NO!” I exploded. “No more distractions! I know I was just an assignment to you from the king. You never wanted me as your son! Look at me! I’m defective! Gray and serious and totally not interested in parties!”

Gasps.

I clenched my teeth. “You’re both fools if you think the bergens won’t find us someday. Even King Peppy said so. And then to hide the fact that you found signs of them so nearby from me?”

Full of bitter misery at having the closest thing I’d ever had to a happy life ruined, I tried to control my trembling voice. “I… I thought I might actually be able to trust you, but you betrayed me. I can’t live with you anymore. How can I ever trust such liars again?”

Bigger gasps. In horror, I watched tears form in their eyes. Trolls never called each other names. Not even in my earliest days with them had I ever been so blunt, so cruel.

Then they stepped toward me, arms reaching to hug. I stepped back, shaking my head slowly. With my lower lip quivering, I turned and ran.

I hid from their calls in the top of the tallest tree in the village, closed up inside a dark hair-cocoon under the once-familiar weight of guilt and turmoil as a slow trickle of tears dripped onto my knees.

_I was right to confront them, wasn’t I? It had to be said. They had two years to tell me, and they didn’t. If they really felt that there was no threat, it should have been okay to tell me, right? The fact that they didn’t could just mean that they believe that there’s no danger and that I just couldn’t handle the news. But if there_ is _danger, then they should be telling everyone, not keeping it secret! They should at least have told me. I’m…I’m supposed to be their son._

_Well, I can’t be now._ I sighed disconsolately, recognizing the rift between us now, caused by their well-intentioned betrayal. _For all I know, they’ve been keeping quiet about all sorts of dangers. They only report them to the king…_

_Wait a minute… The king. All I have to do is convince_ him _to give me my own pod._

I was right. I used my ‘challenging myself might finally make me happy’ pitch on the king, and it worked without a hitch. Jaunty and Courtley weren’t happy about it, but they went along with it, for my sake.

-O-

If only I hadn’t lost my pod.

If only I hadn’t made the nearly-fatal oversight that brought my haven smashing to the ground, nearly killing me. In time, I might have been able to reconcile with my former foster dads, to see them around the village and be able to enjoy their company without the rush of conflicting emotions that hit me every time I saw them – anger, disappointment, love, grief.

But I guess I really was still just a trolling after all.

-O-

After my Incident, I was lying in bed in Doc Whipple’s pod when the door opened and Jaunty and Courtley came hurrying in. For just a moment I was pleased to see them. I had avoided them for all the months I lived in my own pod, the one I no longer had thanks to my own carelessness.

Then I remembered why I had been avoiding them, and my smile faded.

“Branchkin!” Jaunty called.

“Don’t hug me!” I yelled just before they would have thrown themselves on me.

“Oh, sorry, sorry.”

“It’s just so good to see you awake, lad. You had us so worried. Thank goodness you’re going to be all right. Doc Whipple said…”

As I listened to them, it became obvious that they assumed I was going to move back in with them. I was tempted, but my reason for leaving hadn’t changed. I knew they would continue to be overprotective, and hide anything they thought might disturb me, no matter how dangerous. And they would expect me to go back to spending all my free time playing games with them. 

That’s when I realized that my months alone had changed me. I still liked to play sports, but I had developed a strong interest in engineering, something that they knew nothing about. 

Looking at them now was like looking at another life, one I had left behind, with mostly fond memories. I wanted to keep those memories untarnished.

_Besides…Jaunty and Courtley are two good, loving trolls who don’t deserve the turmoil I’d probably put them through if I did go back. The nicest thing I can do for them is to let them keep their happy home happy._

I interrupted their cheerful chatter. “I thought I was going to live with Leafe. That’s what King Peppy said.”

They looked puzzled. “Leafe? There must be some mistake.”

Jaunty said reassuringly, “We’ll talk to Peppy and sort this all out.”

_If they do, they might convince him to make me stay with them, and this will all have been for nothing!_

Suddenly weary and heartbroken, I said heavily, “You aren’t listening. I don’t want to live with you anymore.”

I closed my eyes to avoid looking at their shocked faces.

“But, Branchkin-”

“I know we sort of fumbled the ball with you before, but that’s no reason to-”

Loudly and slowly, I stated, “I don’t need parents. I don’t want parents.”

I opened my eyes and gave them the coldest stare I could. “I don’t want you.”

I made myself glare at their hurt faces before they said,

“We’ll talk about it later.”

“Yes, when you’re feeling better.”

“No!” I yelled. “I’m telling you, I’m sick of it. And I’m sick of you! Sneaking around, reporting about me to King Peppy behind my back. I thought we were a family, but I was just a job. An assignment from the king, to watch me and make sure I didn’t keep causing problems for everyone!”

They were stunned silent. It was all I could do to hold my face frozen, desperately hoping they couldn’t see how close I was to breaking down.

I knew they loved me, even if they hadn’t at first. They weren’t the problem. The problem was me. Everyone I’d ever loved I’d hurt in some way. Up to now it had been bearable because I hadn’t lived with anyone long enough to seriously impact their lives, and because I’d tried not to get attached to anyone.

But I loved them now. My parents. And look what I’d done to them. It was tearing me apart, adding to the burden of their pasts, and that wasn’t fair to them. Or to me.

“So go away!”

I clenched my teeth, my head aching, my cracked ribs throbbing with every heavy breath as I tried not to burst into tears. 

“Please, just go away,” I whispered brokenly, unable to hold back the tear that trickled down my check.

Finally Jaunty relented. “All right, Branchkin. If you think that’s what you really need.”

Courtley put a gentle hand on my cheek. “Just remember, you can come to us any time, for any reason, all right? We love you.”

“Yeah, kiddo, we’ll always love you.”

I managed to wait until they left before I cried.

-O-

_Face it, Branch. They’re not coming._

It took months after I went to live with Leafe before I finally admitted to myself that I was waiting for Jaunty and Courtley to come and get me. I pretended that I didn’t. I told myself, _If they really cared about you, they’d have come by now. Or they do care, but I hurt them so bad they don’t want me around anymore._

While the first explanation really hurt, the second was worse, because it meant that they _had_ wanted nothing more than to protect me, and that me leaving them was the most hurtful thing I could possibly have done to get back at them.

And as much as I wanted to deny it, or justify it, I’d wanted to hurt them. At night I would lie awake, staring up into the dark hollow at the top of Leafe’s pod, listening to him breathe serenely as I roiled in shame and self-recrimination.

_I can’t believe I called them liars, and fools._ I’m _the fool! And there’s nothing I can do to fix this. Even if I apologize, they won’t want me live with them again, any more than any of my other so-called ‘parents’ did once I was gone. Even if they did let me come back, it wouldn’t be the same anymore._

_No, it has to be them. They have to ask me to come back. If they don’t, then that means they really don’t want me._

_I mean, why would they? They can be happy now that I’m gone. It’s better for everyone this way, because the truth is, they want me to be a normal, colorful, ‘happy’ trolling and I’m never gonna be._

_I can’t be the son they want, the son they deserve. And I don’t want to be a disappointment to them._

I tried to ignore the tears slowly seeping down into my hair.

Despite making my decision, I still harbored a tiny flame of hope, hidden deep inside, that one day there would be a knock on the door and Jaunty and Courtley would be standing there, arms open wide to bring me home. Then one day someone told me that they had had a trolling of their own.

And that tiny wisp of hope went out.

-O-

Poppy watched as Branch grew restless, his face and hands twitching. _He must be dreaming._

“No…” he breathed. “No, please…”

She took a closer look, noticing the distress on his face.

“Wait…” he whispered brokenly, with a hint of a whimper. “Don’t leave me… Wait for me…”

“Branch?” Poppy leaned over him in alarm just as tears appeared at the corner of his eyes. “Branch, wake up. What’s the matter?”

She put a hand on his chest and he jumped awake with a start.

“What? What’s goin’ on?” he said blearily, sitting up. He blinked hard to clear his eyes and she watched the tears run down his cheeks.

“Oh, Branch…” she whispered, feeling her own eyes well up.

“Poppy? Poppy!” He touched her upper arm, the worry on his face making him look just the way he used to in his gray days. “What’s wrong? Why are you so sad?”

“I’m not the one who’s sad, Branch,” she said, her tone unsteady as she put a hand on his face, running her thumb through the tearline. “You are. You’re crying.”

“I’m – no, I’m-” He stopped in confusion and put a hand to his other cheek, then gave her a guilty look and pulled away, wiping his face with the heels of his hands. “It’s nothing. I’m fine. Just a bad dream.”

Then he sniffled, and Poppy offered him their one leftover napkin. He took it and blew his nose, facing away from her with his shoulders hunched as if embarrassed or ashamed of his feelings, the way he used to be.

Wanting to do more for him, Poppy crawled over to pick up the far edge of the cotton picnic cloth they were sitting on and poured a generous amount of water on it from their water flask, then walked over to him on her knees. “Here, let me,” she said softly as he turned to look at her, the once-familiar lines of strain returned to his face.

She lifted his chin so that he was looking up at her, almost like one of the trollings she taught, and began gently wiping his face, washing away all traces of his tears. He didn’t protest, closing his eyes obediently as if he were a little trolling again. By the time she was done he looked a little calmer.

“Thanks.”

She sat back on her legs. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He looked uncomfortable, avoiding her gaze again. “No. I’m good, really.”

Poppy reached out to touch his hand. “Please, Branch. Remember, we promised to tell each other the truth. It’s not good to hide how you feel.”

“I know.” His face closed down. “I can’t help it, Poppy. For so long, keeping my mouth shut about how I felt was my best coping mechanism.”

“Coping? For what?”

He sighed. “For any situation where I felt vulnerable.”

“Oh.” She bit her lip. _Why does that sound so wrong, and yet sort of make sense? That’s not what we’re taught as trollings, but then, he has issues with anxiety that most of us don’t…_

“I can see that working for short-term situations, maybe,” she said reluctantly. “But sooner or later it would get to be too much and then you’d snap, right? And have a panic attack or shout at some poor troll, blasting them with hostility they didn’t deserve.”

He hung his head. “Yeah. You’re right.”

“Please tell me, Branch. Maybe I can help.” She moved to sit beside him, smiling hopefully at him as she took his hand in hers. “What was your bad dream about?”

“Well, it wasn’t a _bad_ dream, exactly. I mean, there weren’t monsters or danger or Cloud Guy or anything like that. I was just dreaming about my old foster parents.”

“Oh, really? Which ones? You had a lot of them.”

“Jaunty and Courtley.”

“Oh, yeah, I remember them. They were two really cool guys.”

“Yeah, living with Jaunty and Courtley was…it was great, really.” Her boyfriend got a faraway look on his face, his sky-blue eyes suddenly alight with fond memories. “And I didn’t know what to do with ‘great’, especially at first. I had two awesome years with them. If I hadn’t overheard that conversation…”

He spoke for quite a while, telling the fascinated young queen things about his past that she’d never known. How he’d come to care for the two older males like family, learning and growing with them for two years before finding out they’d been keeping secrets from him that ultimately undermined his trust in them to the point where it was ruining their relationship. So he had made the heartbreaking choice to leave them for a pod of his own.

“Wasn’t that when your pod fell and you got hurt?”

“Yeah. I made a rookie mistake, and boy, did I pay for it.”

He shook his head, half smiling. Poppy was encouraged by the return of his sense of humor. _See, talking things out_ does _help make you feel better._

“You know, Courtley and Jaunty were basically secret agents, sent to spy on the bergens. It would’ve actually been pretty cool, if not for the horrific things they discovered.” He sighed. “No wonder they understood me so well. They’d seen a lot of dark stuff compared to most trolls, and it didn’t leave them untouched, judging by Courtley’s nightmares. If only-”

Poppy deliberately interrupted his gloomy thoughts. “Why didn’t you just ask them to promise not to hide things from you anymore? Or what if you’d gone to my dad and asked him to tell them to tell you the truth?”

He stared at her. “I actually managed to follow that.”

Persistently, she continued, “So then what if they had apologized to you and promised not to do it again? Couldn’t you have forgiven them and let them be your parents?”

“I don’t think so.”

"Really?” She tilted her head curiously. “I don’t understand. I mean, you’d think you’d have _wanted_ to stay where you got along so well and you liked them so much.”

“Well, I… That’s a good point… Hm.” Branch brought up a hand and touched his knuckles thoughtfully to his chin. Poppy waited, torn between curiosity and empathy. “I think… I was looking for a reason to leave. I think maybe I wanted to leave them because I _did_ like them. I liked them so much it scared me. Back then, I never stayed anywhere for long, so I couldn’t afford to let myself love anybody, because sooner or later I’d have to leave them, and it would hurt me all over again.”

“That’s…what’s a word that means ‘worse than awful’?”

Branch opened his mouth and she cut him off. “Never mind, I don’t want to know.”

After a moment she couldn’t help but ask, “But even so, you must’ve loved _somebody.”_

“I…I did.” He looked down, then up at her. “Love them, I mean. They were the closest thing I ever had to real parents, and it broke my heart to have to leave them. So I stopped.”

“Stopped what?”

“Stopped letting myself to love anybody. I didn’t want to let _anybody_ in. That’s when I locked my heart behind the golden door I told you about, when we did those scrapbooks last night.”

“Oh, Branch.” She sighed, feeling a strange mix of sadness and contentment as a new goal materialized in the back of her mind. “Well, I’m glad you decided to open it for me.”

“Oh, I didn’t,” he said lightly.

“Huh?”

He smiled at her, his blue eyes serene now that he’d finally had the chance to tell another of the most painful moments of his life to someone he trusted.

“No matter how I tried, you were the one person I couldn’t keep out. The one person who wouldn’t _let_ me keep her out. A certain pushy, naïve, overenthusiastic pink troll who could never take ‘no’ for an answer.”

He put his arm around her and she leaned against his warm side.

“The troll who grew up to be the Sunshine of my life.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anxiety is often a result of feeling helpless, and the best way to fight it is to do things that empower us, even little things. Notice how little Branchkin responded with increased confidence and a sense of purpose when his worries were addressed with the Stroll Patrol and the Doc asking him to make a healing soup and being given the opportunity to help nurse Jaunty back to health, compared to when Courtley and Jaunty chose to “protect” him from bad news. Although in truth, that situation had no solid good choices; they had to choose whether to risk losing his trust someday when he found out, or undoing all the progress he’d made, emotionally.
> 
> Courtley has nightmares like Branchkin, but he is able to negate their power over him and stay happy because he talks them over with Jaunty. Somehow just verbalizing our fears – even just writing them down in a journal – help make sense of them and helps us to make decisions to change what we dream-fear the most. It’s also good for helping you sleep.
> 
> Part of the reason I created the couples Jaunty and Courtley, and Leafe and Cherry Blossom, was to give Branch some healthy role models for normal, loving, romantic relationships. Now that he’s got one of his own…I believe that like most of us, he’s going to be thinking of the people he’s known and the way they treat each other, deciding which examples to follow and which to refuse to be like. We know from Trolls holiday that Branch can handle delicate situations with sensitivity and his own brand of cleverness, and, I think, the kind of compassion that comes as a result of being the one receiving comfort himself, which implies that he’s had some good experiences with others in the past.


	21. Poppy Tells All

Poppy was content to sit for a few minutes with Branch, snuggled up next to him with his arm around her as the wind made a gentle _shhhh_ sound through the leafy branches above them. She found herself pulling in deep, full breaths; it smelled so fresh and clean. Placidly she watched the grass ripple in the breeze, the longer grassfronds bobbing and dancing as if to a melody only they could hear, and admired the way the sun-dappled shadows wove lacy patterns upon the small field surrounding them. 

“Thank you.”

Surprised, she leaned away from her boyfriend so she could look up into his eyes. “For what?”

“For listening. You were right. I do feel better.”

She gave him a fond smile, wanting to kiss him on the nose. “Any time, Branch.”

He surprised her again by booping her own nose as he got to his feet and held out his hand. “That goes for you too, Poppy. If you ever need to talk, I’m here for you, always.”

She reached for his hand and pulled herself up, holding on to him as her eyes traced attentively over his features, glad to see that he was back to his usual self. “Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.”

They cleaned up their picnic area and headed back into the Beadfest. Poppy felt rested and alert and saw that her boyfriend did, too. _I’m glad we decided to take a little break from the action. Sometimes that makes all the difference._

-O-

Poppy and I spent the next few hours having a great time at the Beadfest, reveling in the fun and festivities with nary a care in the world. We competed in bead-decorating and jewelry-design contests, enjoyed bead-themed rides and games, danced and sang in half a dozen of the impromptu songs that sprang up here and there as a normal part of every day in Troll Village, and took advantage of every Hug Time that came around to indulge in some long, close hugging. It was as close to bliss as I’d ever imagined.

As the afternoon progressed, every now and then I would remember my dream. _I’m kind of embarrassed that she saw me like that. No wonder she treated me like a little trolling._ Yet it had also felt kind of good to have her take care of me. Maybe remembering how natural it had once felt to be taken care of by my foster parents had something to do with it.

It had been a long time since I’d allowed myself to think about my foster dads, let alone talk about them, but it hadn’t been as bad as I’d expected. _Fourteen years_ is _a long time, after all. And I’m not the same person anymore._

In my bunker years I had learned not to think about my foster dads, because even when the memories were pleasant, invariably I would recall the way it always ended: with me all alone again. I replayed the memory of our parting in the doctor’s pod a thousand times, changing the words I’d spoken in my mind, but no matter what, the ending was always the same.

Sometimes I would get stuck in a loop of negative thoughts and feelings that could be very difficult to pull out of, with no real interaction with other trolls apart from irregular visits from Poppy, which grew more and more rare as the years passed. I never admitted it to myself, but I grew to treasure them. 

I had spent well over a year at Leafe’s pod subconsciously waiting for my foster dads to come for me, so when I’d heard they had their own trolling it had felt like the final betrayal. I’d even resented the trolling who’d taken my place, knowing I had no right to, since I’d given that place up of my own free will, but it was all I could do to force it all down inside me and continue to be the same serious, sometimes sour-tempered teenager Leafe had unwittingly taken in.

Fortunately, Leafe Sage was as wise as his name, never mentioning my foster parents or my undoubtedly adorable usurper to me after informing me of the new arrival, for which I was keenly grateful. My clever roommate could definitely take a hint.

Looking back on my time with Jaunty and Courtley from my current, happy perspective, I realized now that there was a lot of my foster dads in me. My love for routine, for one; the healthy habits of which my foster dads had taken such care to thoroughly establish had given me a good foundation. Things like regular meals, exercise and sleep had become so much a part of me that I followed them out of habit, which I suspected was one of the main reasons I had come through my bunker years as well as I had. Yes, I had been suspicious and pessimistic, but physically healthy and emotionally stable, mostly.

I had a lot to be thankful for. 

Especially these days. I couldn’t remember the last time someone had been there to comfort me when I had a bad dream. Not that I was looking for comfort. I was happy now, after all, and perfectly capable of ignoring the lingering feeling of sadness such dreams often left with me.

 _Really. I am. Of course, it would be better if I didn’t have bad dreams at all, but well, it is what it is. I just have to learn to roll with it, to accept it like a good troll should, right? I know Poppy wouldn’t agree, but sometimes you really do have to accept a few unpleasant things in life that you can’t change, and try to be happy anyway. And I’m getting better at that every day,_ I thought proudly.

 _No, I don’t need help. But I’ll always be grateful to Poppy for everything she’s done for me._

-O-

Late in the afternoon, several trolls approached me, asking me to be the caller again for the Double-Helix dance.

“You’re a natural,” one troll said.

“A tough act to follow,” said another, beaming eagerly at me.

Considering the unmoving hairball we saw when we arrived on the scene, I had to agree.

Poppy and I had fun for a while; we even made a game of our own out of it, alternating commands to see if we could keep things going smoothly or if we would foul each other up. If we each started guiding the trolls into different patterns we’d get a spectacular mess, but when we focused on each other, we really made some magic.

“You two sure work well together,” Conifer commented. The little orange trolling had chosen to sit near us on the tall mushroom we stood upon, watching cheerfully as between the two of us, we engineered some gorgeously elegant geometric patterns in a spray of rainbow of colors as the hair-joined trolls below us glided and twirled in glorious, trippy spirals.

“Yeah,” I agreed. “I feel like this game is a metaphor for life; how we live and work together in the real world.”

“What game isn’t?” Poppy replied, surprising me.

My face must have showed it, because she asked, “What?”

“You don’t often get philosophical.” I tilted my head and gave her a slow grin with heavy-lidded eyes, then winked at her. “I like it.”

Poppy flushed a little and her hand came up to brush at the hair near her face, as if she was self-conscious.

_Man, I love flirting._

To see if I could get her to blush some more I added, “You know, if this little dance session means anything, it bodes well for our future, doesn’t it?”

I wasn’t disappointed.

And I wasn’t really joking, either. Working seamlessly as part of a team was an important skill that I’d had trouble with in school sometimes, when my independent mind refused to go with the flow. _Kind of hard to throw yourself into the role when the goal is to create the ultimate tower of cupcakes, or something equally useless and frankly, kind of bizarre._

But now that my goals were more about having fun and exploring new things, I found it was a lot easier to try myself in roles I’d previously dismissed. At times, I marveled at the openness of my own mind, as if I’d gone back to being the trolling I used to be before I ever lost my family.

“You know, Poppy, I truly feel like I have a world of possibilities in front of me.” I put a hand over my heart, smiling sincerely now. “I have you to thank for that. And I really look forward to exploring them with you by my side.”

“Aww…” Poppy gave me the glad smile I loved to see, making me proud that I was the one who put it there.

“You guys really like each other, huh?” Conifer asked.

I looked at Poppy. Did that count as someone asking if we were a couple? She shrugged, and I shrugged back. Then she smiled, and I felt soft inside. 

I turned back to Conifer, who had been following our silent conversation with curious purple eyes. “We sure do,” I said enthusiastically. Sometimes it was easier to be honest about my feelings around trollings. “We love each other very much.”

“So you’re best friends?”

“Definitely.” Poppy nodded her head. “Best friends for life.”

“That’s nice.” Conifer beamed up at me, and I couldn’t help but reach out to ruffle the little trolling’s brilliant orange hair, looking into Poppy’s eyes over his head. 

“It sure is,” I said, but I wasn’t really talking to Conifer.

-O-

As the dinner hour approached, another pair of trolls asked to take a turn as callers for the dancers. Poppy and I received a rousing send-off cheer from the dancers and the tiers of spectators who had gathered in the surrounding trees as we high-fived each other and used our hair to swing down to the ground.

I was in a great mood; all my dark thoughts forgotten, except for a vague feeling that I’d forgotten something. I started to retrace my mental steps through the days’ events, but Poppy tugged at my hand, and whatever it was dissolved.

_Well, it probably isn’t important, or I would have done something about it by now…_

-O-

“Come on, Branch! I’m starving,” Poppy said, taking his hand and pulling him toward the food vendor section of the Beadfest.

Just then Branch pointed ahead of them. “Hey, look, there’s our friends.”

They jogged to catch up with the group and at their greeting, their friends turned in surprise.

“There you are! We were wondering where you’d got to,” said Biggie.

“Hey, nice duds, dude.” DJ Suki gave Branch a thumb’s-up.

“I like that vest. The embroidery is exquisite,” Biggie commented. He wore a lot of vests himself.

“Thank you. It’s our own design,” Chenille replied before Branch could answer.

“Doesn’t he look fabulous?” Satin gushed.

Poppy saw Branch glance at the twins as if he couldn’t decide whether they were really complimenting him or the clothes before turning back to their friends. “Thanks, guys.”

“Pink and white are definitely your colors,” Smidge said admiringly. She had always liked pink, and she wore it a lot herself.

“Thank you,” he said again, smiling.

Impulsively giving in to the urge to show off, Branch leaped into the air and twirled around twice, stopping with his back to the group. The pink-beaded heart on his white shorts drew Poppy’s eyes like a magnet.

He put his hands on his hips, swiveled his upper body so he was looking over his shoulder and gave them all a totally adorable flirty face, with lowered lids and pouty lips. Instantly Poppy wanted to kiss the lips that he was offering like a gift and quickly looked down, stuffing the side of her finger between her teeth to quiet the urge.

Then he lifted his shoulder and cocked a hip, his hair swaying forward in a dashing manner as he winked and gave them all a slow, charismatic smile.

Their friends stared in silence, then burst into applause.

He broke his pose, dipping forward in a grand bow that was kept from being pretentious by the cheeky grin on his face. “Thank you, thank you.”

“Well, Branch, you’re in an unusually chipper mood today,” Biggie commented cheerfully.

Guy Diamond added, “Yes, if I didn’t know better, I’d almost think you were in love. Dressed to impress a certain someone?” he asked slyly, giving the aquamarine troll a knowing grin.

Both Poppy and Branch froze, but before either of them could blurt out a confession a feminine voice called out, “Yoo-hoo, Branch!”

Everyone turned to see a deep ruby-red troll with pale pink hair in a flower-shaped style coming toward them.

While they were distracted, Poppy quickly wiped her sweaty hands on the back of her skirt. _Guy probably didn’t mean anything by that. He just loves to tease._

“Hi, Cherry Blossom,” Branch greeted the teacher with the warm familiarity he normally reserved for his friends, and Poppy recalled that Cherry Blossom had been in his Heimlich Maneuver class a few days ago.

“Afternoon, everyone,” Cherry Blossom said. “Branch, I know you’re probably busy, but do you have time to talk? I have a request for you.”

“A request?” Smidge repeated.

“For me?” Branch traded surprised glances with Poppy. It was unusual for trolls other than Poppy or their friends to ask Branch for help.

 _Huh. Another request for_ Branch, _not me._ She frowned slightly as an unaccustomed wash of strange, not-happy feelings splashed Poppy’s insides before she was able to dismiss them and focus on the conversation in front of her.

“Anything _we_ can help you with?” Guy offered.

Cherry Blossom turned to the silver glitter troll. “Thank you, but no. I have need of Branch’s specific skill set.”

“Well, _I_ have specific skills, too,” Cooper bragged.

Cherry Blossom smiled at the giraffe troll. “Of course you do. I always appreciate the magnificent pyrotechnic displays you create.”

“Yeah!” Cooper agreed, looking satisfied.

“Well then, we’ll just be running along then, won’t we, Mister Dinkles?” Biggie said, and the worm meeped in agreement.

As their friends turned to go, Poppy quickly said, “Wait for me.”

“Poppy?” Branch gave her a questioning look.

“I’ll just hang with our friends while you go help Cherry Blossom. Come find me when you’re done, okay?”

He hesitated, and then a knowing look crossed his face and he nodded. “Okay.”

“It shouldn’t take very long, Queen – I mean, Poppy,” Cherry Blossom said reassuringly.

 _I wonder what Cherry Blossom needs from Branch that I couldn’t do just as well?_ Poppy mused as she followed her friends through the Beadfest, weaving their way single-file through the clusters of merrymakers. _Maybe she wants him to build something for her?_ The pink troll was genuinely puzzled. _It couldn’t be about-_

Just then she caught a tantalizing whiff of hot buttered popcorn in the air and her belly rumbled so loud it could have rivaled one of Branch’s growls. _Well, whatever it is, I hope it doesn’t take too long. I wonder what Branch wants for dinner? Maybe we should head back to my pod and cook together like we did last night. That was fun._

She smiled softly as she recalled the previous evening’s closeness, but then her smile faded as she remembered how it had ended. _Aw, man,_ I _wanted to talk to Cherry Blossom! She knew Branch during the years he lived with Leafe. And she’s married. Maybe she can tell me what to say or do to help Branch be more comfortable around me. It’s like he can go up to a certain point and then - bam! He hits a wall. Maybe she can help us; help him have a breakthrough._

They came upon a tent she recognized, the same one she and Branch had been in that morning, when she had flirted with him about his hair. There were no customers inside, and after she entered, Guy closed the fuzzy door-flap, cutting off most of the light except for what came through around the edges.

“Guys?” she said into the darkness. “What’s going on?”

“Sorry. Mister Dinkles, if you wouldn’t mind?” came Biggie’s voice. Obligingly, the pink-and-yellow striped glow-worm lit up brightly, giving the little room a warm, cozy feel. 

Poppy looked around, noting that most of the glitter-fied items were gone now, off to new homes. Then she recognized the mirror Branch had used and recalled his adorably anxious query:

 _‘Do all trolls lose control of their hair when they’re in love?’_

She sighed heavily. _He’s so cute, and yet…_

“What’s wrong, Poppy?” asked Guy Diamond sympathetically. “Isn’t your date with Branch going well?”

“It’s not an official date, exactly. That’s the day after tomorrow, assuming Branch still wants to-” Finally her brain caught up with her mouth and she sputtered, “Holy melted glue sticks, are you saying you guys _knew about Branch and me all along?”_

Her friends practically exploded with hilarity. Both twins dropped to the ground, helplessly giggling, Smidge made a fist with her hair and drummed the nearest mushroom until it vibrated like an enormous gong, Biggie was practically in hysterics, bursts of glitter showered Cooper as Guy Diamond laughed so hard he literally lost all control of himself, and Cooper danced a silly jig, silver glitter flying out in waves from his long fur.

Although her ‘chuckle factory’ soreness had eased for the most part, Poppy was too stunned to feel like joining in.

Eventually they calmed down enough to explain. “Well, you know how you were late getting to the festival, right?” DJ said. “Smidge, Cooper and Guy Diamond overheard you talking with Branch this morning when they went to see what was taking you so long.”

Cooper announced proudly, “We saw you huggin’ and everything. We were spies!”

“Not on purpose,” Guy said with a hint of apology in his tone. “Your door was open.”

Smidge added, “That’s when we found out that you and Branch were finally together (which Satin, Biggie, Cooper and I totally called by the way), and that you were having trouble reconciling your duties as queen with your needs as a woman. So we decided to help you out.” 

“We tried to stay out of your way whenever we saw you coming, even leaving our display tents to give you some privacy,” Guy continued. “And did you like my distraction when those teenagers interrupted you in my tent?”

“So _that’s_ why we hardly saw you guys all day!” She paused, touched at her friends’ thoughtfulness. “And you’ve been helping me and Branch keep it a secret?”

Smidge nodded. “Yeah, and we spent all day intercepting any troll who looked like they were coming to ask you to help with something, and then we helped them ourselves.” 

“And boy, do we have some newfound respect for you.” Guy Diamond spread his glittery hands to the sides. “Being queen is a lot of work, and people expect you to be omniscient.” 

“And they want you to know all the answers, too!” chimed in Cooper.

“You did so much for me! Aw, guys, thank you so much!” Poppy threw her arms wide and they all gathered together for a big group hug. When they let go, Poppy added, “I can’t believe I didn’t notice.” 

“Well, you might have heard us – we weren’t exactly discreet. Plus Cooper kept trying to talk to you and we had to keep stopping him.”

“I didn’t, but I think Branch did. I guess I should have paid more attention, but I was a little…distracted.”

A goofy grin spread over her face as she remembered the many waysher aquamarine boy had distracted her today; looking so cool while he directed traffic and their new dance with smarts, style and grace, flirting with her, admiring his beauty in the twins’ tent, his dreamy singing, and a certain unexpectedly delightful treat involving caramel chocolate…

Heat spread over her face, but she wouldn’t trade those wonderful memories for anything.

Then DJ Suki spoke with an air of ancient wisdom. “Well, my friend, if he can’t distract you, you’re not in love.”

Everyone stared at her in surprise. The apple-red troll shrugged. “What? It’s in the lyrics of a dozen songs.”

“Oh, and what Branch said when you were sneaking some alone-time in my tent? Silver glitter is _too_ ‘in’ right now!” Guy exclaimed, waving his arms. “It’s classic! Never goes out of style!”

Diplomatically Poppy said, “I’ll let Branch know that.”

“Oh, I can’t believe our Poppy is in love! Our little princess is all grown up.” Biggie wiped away a happy tear.

“Yeah,” Smidge sniffled, then jumped and clung to the giant blue troll, wailing, “It happened so fast!” 

In the company of the friends who loved her and knew her well, for the first time since she had made her life-altering choice a great sense of warmth and freedom relaxed the young queen almost to the point of giddiness.

“Ooo, I’m so _happy_ you guys already know about us and that you’re willing to keep it a secret for now,” she babbled. “I really _really_ wanted to ask someone for advice.”

“About what?” asked Biggie.

“About how to make Branch feel more comfortable with me when we’re alone. After all, once our secret is out I’m sure we won’t _have_ much alone-time and he’s skittish enough as it is!”

“He’s skittish?”

As if her request had opened a door, a mass of insecurities she hadn’t known she was suppressing came bubbling to the surface. “The thing is, I don’t really know what I’m doing. I mean, Branch is relying on me to be the one who leads the way,” she pointed to her chest, “but while I may be more social than he is, that doesn’t mean I automatically know how romantic relationships work. Especially with someone like Branch.”

She twisted her hands together, and admitted, “I’m afraid of scaring him off. He hates feeling vulnerable more than anything. I mean, if _I’m_ a little nervous, then _he’s_ probably terrified. What if he changes his mind?”

Her friends exchanged looks of surprise and confusion. 

Delicately, Biggie asked, “Where is all this coming from, Poppy? Are you having doubts about him? Or does Branch not want to be your boyfriend?” 

“He doesn’t?” Smidge growled, pulling a large club out of her hair and pounding it into her other hand. “Want us to ‘persuade’ him a little?”

“Yes. No. I mean, that’s not what I meant! Urrgh, you _guys!”_ she yelled a little louder than she meant to, and her friends looked alarmed.

Biggie leaned down to ask, a little hesitantly, “Did - did we do something wrong?”

“No, it’s not you. It’s just- I’m so – Of all the trolls in the village, why did I have to fall for him?” She buried her face in her hands.

She felt a tiny hand pat her leg. “Poppy, what’s wrong?” Smidge asked as gently as her rough voice could manage. “You do love him, don’t you?”

She closed her eyes, thinking about how every moment she had spent with him over the past day had seemed so special, how happy it made her just to be near him, and how easy it had been to ignore the twinges of worry in the back of her mind.

“I do, Smidge. I really do. I’ve never felt like this about anybody before, and considering how social we trolls are, that’s saying a lot. When we’re together, everything is so wonderful…”

“That’s good, isn’t it?” DJ looked puzzled, and Poppy heaved a big, unhappy sigh.

“But I’m the queen, guys. That means I have to consider the welfare of the entire village, not just me. Am I making the right choice?” 

Her friends exchanged glances, and she caught the hesitancy on more than a few faces.

But then Satin stepped forward. “What do _you_ think, Poppy?”

“I _think_ I am,” she said honestly. “But maybe I’ve just convinced myself that Branch is the right person because I love him, not because he’s the best choice for the village. I mean, there’s his obsession with safety, how he has trouble relating to others emotionally, the fact that he lives in a bunker…” 

Cooper laughed. “Yeah, too bad you fell for someone whose hangups have hangups.”

She moaned. “Oh, why do things have to be so _complicated?_ ”

Guy put a hand on her shoulder. “Well, they do say opposites attract, so it’s not surprising that there’s bound to be some uh, challenges.” He winked at her. “Besides, that’s part of why you like him, isn’t it? Because he’s _not_ your typical troll.”

“He’s unique,” Chenille stated.

“Special,” Satin agreed.

“Face it, Poppy, you’ve always had a thing for him.” Smidge said. “Remember when you were a teenager?”

DJ grinned at her. “Yeah, why else would you have waited so long to start dating? Not even Creek?”

“It seems as if your heart was set on Branch a long time ago,” Biggie said softly. “Maybe his was, too.”

“Aww.” Touched, Poppy put a hand over her heart.

Everyone was quiet for a moment, and then Guy said, “But as for Branch being the right person to help you lead the village, well…” He looked uncomfortable. “I’ll admit I have some doubts about that. I mean, the old Branch definitely wouldn’t have been my first choice.”

“Oh.” Her face fell as her heart sunk into her stomach. “Well, thank you for being honest.”

She sighed unhappily. There was a pause, and then she heard Guy clear his throat.

“But then, he’s not the same person anymore, is he?”

True to her sunny-sky nature, the pink troll brightened instantly, giving the silver glitter troll a hopeful smile. The others recognized an opportunity to give compliments and emotional support, two things that every troll loved to do.

“You’re right,” DJ agreed.

“He’s changed a lot,” Chenille acknowledged. 

“For the better.” Satin clasped her hands together, and Poppy wondered if she was thinking about the special attention Branch had given her while they were choosing clothes together.

“He’s _weird!”_ Her friends all glared at Cooper, who laughed in that half-crazy way of his and added, “Good thing I _like_ weirdos.”

Everyone looked at Smidge, who shrugged. “He deserves a chance.”

Poppy grinned, then turned questioning eyes on her large cobalt-blue friend. “Biggie, what do you think?”

“I think…that it’s a good thing you’ve got Branch lined up for the job,” said Biggie. “Between the two of you, I’ll bet there’s no problem you can’t solve.” Poppy beamed lovingly at her friend. Biggie had always been one of Branch’s staunchest supporters. 

Then she looked around to include all of her friends in her affectionate approval. “With a little help from you guys.”

As one, the group went, “Awww,” and converged on her. She spread her arms wide to encompass them all as they embraced her once again. _Maybe we should save time and just keep hugging,_ she thought happily, not minding that Satin and Chenille’s multicolored hair was in her face. _In case they have any other revelations for me-_

Then something clicked and she pulled out of the hug. “Wait a minute, if you two knew Branch and I were dating, then _that’s_ why you gave him shorts with a heart on them!”

They both burst out laughing.

“Right. It was our little joke. When you came to our tent, we ducked down because we thought you wanted some privacy to kiss and stuff…” Satin giggled.

Chenille grinned. “But then Branch called for us and we saw that you _totally_ needed some new clothes.”

“We tested him, too,” Satin added.

“What do you mean, tested him?”

Chenille pointed at her sister. “Satin flirted with him.”

“So did you! You had your hand on his butt!”

“Well, so did you!”

Poppy cut off the incipient argument. “Wait, wait. You did that on _purpose?”_

“We wanted to see if he’d flirt back. We had to make sure he was serious about you.”

“And he passed. He’s so into you, Poppy, he didn’t even realize we were flirting.”

“As he should be.”

For one of the few times in her life, Poppy was speechless.

“You know, when we first saw you that morning, we hadn’t heard the news-”

“-but later, we wanted to do a little something to celebrate your union. You’re kind of like us, now. Together forever.” Satin’s face went dreamy.

Chenille wrinkled her nose. “Ugh. Maybe I should be offering you my condolences instead.”

“Chenille!”

“Just kidding.” The powder-blue troll hugged Poppy. “We’re so happy for you.” __

Guy leaned toward Poppy, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. “Sooo, tell us how it happened. Did you confess first, or did he?”

“Yeah, we wanna hear all the details!” Smidge demanded with a big grin on her face.

“Oh, I can do better than that. I’ve been making a scrapbook of everything that’s happened so far,” Poppy said proudly, pulling out her ‘unofficial date/ice cream’ scrapbook from her hair. She held it up toward the circle of attentive faces, and stood still for a moment to compose her thoughts.

“It all started yesterday morning when I woke up from a beautiful dream where Branch and I were together.” The first page had a tiny sleeping Poppy with a smile on her face and a thought-bubble above her head with an even tinier pair of nude pink and aquamarine figures who were also asleep, snuggled together with a blanket partially over them. The little felt figures were smiling.

“And then I woke up and he wasn’t there, and I missed him so much.” The scene showed Poppy sitting in bed with a teardrop on her cheek, and Branch in a nearby thought-bubble. “And I kept missing him all day long. Then last night he came to my pod on an errand,” she showed an image of Branch standing inside her pod carrying a box, “and he ended up using my bathroom to take a bubble bath.”

A dark-haired troll cheerfully scrubbed himself in a tub full of cotton-fluff bubbles. Poppy pressed a round circle on the page that covered a button and a tiny voice could be heard singing ‘la la la…”.

“And then when he got out, I-” Suddenly she remembered what was on the next page, and stopped, oddly reluctant to continue.

“You what?” Smidge asked.

They all looked curiously at Poppy, who hesitated, then answered honestly, “When I saw him, I wanted to – to touch him.” She looked away, heat blooming on her cheeks. “You know. That way.” 

“What way?” Biggie asked innocently.

“Meeep,” Mister Dinkles commented, somehow making it sound a tad racy, and her audience’s eyes popped. Now she wasn’t the only one blushing.

Everyone carefully avoided looking at one another for a few seconds until curiosity got the better of them.

“So, what happened?” DJ asked, and added hastily, “If you don’t mind us asking.”

“I did it.”

Everyone squealed, and half the group grabbed hold of the other half out of sheer excitement. 

“Go on!”

She turned the page. The Branch figure was standing with his back to the Poppy figure, his face uplifted and his hair spread out like a flower. A bit of fuzz represented the towel he held in a rather special location. Poppy’s little arm was touching his back.

Some of her friends looked enthralled, others embarrassed, but all of them had a look of wonder in their eyes, as if thinking about when it would be their turn to find their special someone.

“Um, so, yeah, I touched him. And then…” _It got weird,_ she wanted to say, but as her face went from warm to whistling-teakettle hot she decided that maybe she didn’t need to describe every detail. “Well, he seemed to like it. At first. But then he kind of freaked out and so did I, and he started to run away from me. I was afraid I’d lost him for good.”

“No!” they all said in horror.

“What did you do?” Biggie whispered.

“I called out to him, asking him to come back to me.”

She turned the page to show a cutaway image of her pod, with herself reaching out with both arms toward the aquamarine troll, who stood facing away from her. Shiny bits of satin represented the raindrops outside. She pressed a round circle on the page and her miniaturized voice called out “Wait!”

Then she pulled a tab, drawing the Branch figure to the side, toward the open door.

“No!” Smidge put her hands to her peach-colored cheeks.

“Don’t go!” Satin cried out.

“And then…he stopped, literally on the brink.” Poppy left the figure standing in the doorway.

Her friends sighed in relief. 

Poppy announced dramatically, “It was the moment of truth. Stay or go? Should he run back to his bunker and live the rest of his life safe but lonely, or should he open up his heart for the first time in his life and take a chance on love?”

“Take the chance!” her friends called out, encouraging the little figure, whose sad little face held a great big longing.

“My heart was pounding. He could so easily have turned away from me, just like he’s been doing his entire life…but he didn’t. Not this time. This time, he took the chance.”

She pulled a different tab, and the figure flipped over to face the pink troll.

 _“Yay!”_ everyone cheered, with Guy Diamond’s silvery vocals rippling throughout.

Poppy smiled as she pushed the first tab toward the Poppy figure until he slid between her arms. Then she shifted her scrapbook to one hand so she could gaze at her sweetheart, already starting to miss him. She stroked a gentle finger over the silky tuft of purple hair, an unmistakable look of love softening her features.

“So then what happened? Did he declare his undying love for you?” Biggie asked eagerly.

In answer, she turned the page. The next page was covered in glittery hearts, with a tiny Poppy and Branch hugging with big, happy smiles on their faces and a huge pink, blue and purple rainbow with the word ‘LOVE’ on it above their heads. 

“Awww…”

“That’s so sweet!”

Caught up in the story, her friends hugged one another.

Amid the happy cries of her dearest friends, Poppy quietly closed her scrapbook and slipped it into her hair, deciding in the back of her mind that she didn’t feel like showing the rest of it. _Some of it makes me feel kind of awkward to share._ To soothe her guilt she reminded herself, _Branch told me that it was normal to want privacy in relationships. And anyway, now I can have the fun of making a new one to tell our story to the entire village later._

The storyteller in her decided that the ending had been a little abrupt, so she added, “We had a long talk and figured things out together. I finally realized that somewhere along the way I’d fallen for him, and he confessed that he’s been in love with me for years.”

“I knew it!” Biggie, Smidge, Satin and Cooper shouted.

Poppy blinked. “Wait. Seriously?”

“Well, maybe not years, but since Bergentown, yeah,” Smidge confirmed.

“He said so right in his song,” Satin pointed out.

“Yeah, that was _not_ friendship he was singing ‘bout, yo,” said Cooper.

“Actually… I suspected it,” Biggie said unexpectedly.

“You did?” Poppy and her friends chorused in astonishment.

A light dawned. “Oh! Is _that_ why you were playing dress-up with Mister Dinkles that time I walked in on you?”

“Dress-up?” the twins asked together.

“Yes. You _really_ didn’t see it? None of you?” Biggie gazed down at everyone’s clueless faces. “The way Branch always seemed to be somewhere near Poppy? Mister Dinkles and I used to see him hiding all around the village, watching her.”

Chenille shuddered. “That’s creepy.”

“No… Well, maybe it was a _little_ creepy, but really it looked to me like he was…shy. Like he wanted to approach her but couldn’t figure out how.”

Her friends looked touched.

So was Poppy. “Aww, really?”

Her big friend nodded. “I used to ‘accidentally’” he made air quotes “run into him and chat with him sometimes. He used to complain – I mean, say some, er, not-very-polite things about you, sometimes, but he also asked me a lot of questions about you, and he always listened very carefully to everything I told him. I suspected he was smitten, but he would make excuses and run off whenever I started talking about feelings, so I couldn’t be positive.” 

“Sounds like Branch, all right.” Smidge nodded.

“Wow.” _So I wasn’t just an annoyance to him all these years! Grumble though he might, he really cared!_ A surge of love made her stomach flip-flop, imagining him with hand over heart, earnestly whispering wistful poetry in the hopes that someday he’d have the courage to declare his feelings to her for real.

Biggie continued, “And then after spending his entire life terrified of the bergens, our resident expert in survival techniques followed you to the one place he should have avoided at all costs, the scariest place in the world to him: Bergentown.”

“Yeah…” Cooper said gently. “If that’s not love, what is?”

“I didn’t know that.” Suddenly Poppy’s elation evaporated. Her body drooped as she looked forlornly down at the ground, her hands twisted together over her chest.

“What’s wrong, Poppy?” Biggie looked concerned.

She sighed miserably. “I could have helped him learn to be happy years ago if I’d paid closer attention to him. If I’d tried harder. Instead,” her voice grew rough with emotion, “he went on growing further and further away from us all, to the point where he could barely stand to be hugged, let alone…”

She closed her eyes and sighed again. “Well, I mean, last night in bed-”

She jumped in startlement at the sudden outcry as her friends recoiled.

Biggie covered his glowworm’s nonexistent ears. “Are you sure we should be hearing this?”

“Not that we don’t enjoy sharing, Poppy, but in this case I’m gonna have to agree with Branch!” Satin said with a look of supreme discomfort. 

“Yeah, there _is_ such a thing as too much sharing!” Chenille looked even more distressed than her sister.

Poppy turned redder than her namesake and waved her hands wildly. “It wasn’t like that!”

Everyone gave her puzzled looks.

“I just wanted to cuddle with him, that’s all.”

“Oh,” they all said together in relief.

“But he had a panic attack,” she finished, a little dispiritedly.

Several of her friends winced.

“Was it awful?” asked DJ sympathetically.

“No, it wasn’t like it used to be. He just…froze. So I asked him if he wanted me to let him go and he said, ‘Stay with me.’”

“Aww,” they all said feelingly.

“And that he wanted to get used to being close to someone again.”

Some of her friends started sniffling. “I promised myself I wouldn’t cry!” Biggie started frantically fanning himself. “This is so touching!”

“So what happened next?” Guy asked, his eyes wide with anticipation.

“Not much. He calmed down after a while and we went to sleep.”

Everyone looked disappointed.

“That’s all?” Smidge put her fists on her tiny hips.

Suddenly she felt the need to defend her boyfriend. “Look, you all know Branch has intimacy issues. I just didn’t want to push him before he was ready.”

Guy Diamond spoke up. “But sometimes you have to push him, or he’ll never come out of his shell.”

“Yeah,” Smidge agreed. “Sometimes you have to be the one who makes the first move.”

“Well, I did make a move.” Her voice went husky with emotion. “I just wish I’d made it sooner.”

Her friends were silent for a minute, and then Biggie spoke up. “Listen, Poppy, I know this may not be much consolation, but I doubt things would have changed much until the whole bergen issue was settled, no matter what you tried with him.”

The others murmured their agreement.

“He was obsessed with them.”

“And he still felt bad about his grandmother. It was only because of Bridget that we found out about her, remember?”

“And then we found out he was a poet and a wonderful singer.”

“He came through for us, just when we needed him most.”

“And he did it all for love of you, Poppy,” Biggie said softly, smiling down at her, and her heart felt light again. She threw her arms as far as she could reach around him, and felt the comforting soft thumps of warm bodies, arms and hearts of her friends as they joined in the hug.

“I love you guys,” she said happily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I figure that Poppy probably has a collection of real hair from everyone, donated in advance for her scrapbooks.


End file.
